


A place to call home

by Black96



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, family matters are complicated, happy ending i hope, let's just see where this will go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-05-31 03:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19417582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black96/pseuds/Black96
Summary: Deep in the darkest halls, a place was created, for innocents to rest.Wishing to offer gratitude, a little knight finds the Queen's realm."Thou are welcome to stay,Make thyself at home.Whatever needs thou may have,Bring them before this throne,We shall see that they are taken care of."





	1. Birth of Nocturne

In the beginning, they were together, never apart, always there. Banished into the depts where no one dared to venture, they keep each other company. Misery loves company. Darkness and rot. Many of their kind saw them but did not bother approach them, too afraid of their power, of their very existence. They did not care, they had one another after all. As time went by, an emotion bloomed between the two, a union most frowned upon, but again, none dared to oppose. What this feeling was, they couldn’t name it, for they knew so very few of the matters of the heart, of warmth and light. Dark magics, songs of pain and sorrow, fear and hatred were their most loyal servants. Yet, they were contempt with such. They had one another after all. The world above did not disturb them, the arguments of their kind left them cold. Wars or peace, it was all the same. Souls of departed beings would descend into their lair all the time, but they cared little about it, too absorbed by their own connection which was only getting stronger. They made a promise, one that will last forever, to never leave each other’s side. Oh! If only they knew what was about to come.

What was it? A war? Another petty squabble between gods? Why did they get involved? One couldn’t recall. Now, she was alone, her half dead and gone. A bottomless sea, a bottomless regret lay before her eyes. His body submerged under the abundance of dark blood. Soon it will be gone, devoured by his rage and hatred towards their kind, towards the light. She cried; her tears colored black by grief and pain. The sea drank her sorrow, the anger fading as it swallowed them. It demanded more and she obliged. Her eyes lost their light as the water streamed down her face and into the ocean below. Soon, tears weren’t enough. The sea hungered for more, but she had nothing left to offer. The grief drained her. Tired and still hurting, she let the black waters take her, yet they couldn’t devour her like they did with the other one. Lingering feelings, a connection that not even death could shatter, stopped it from harming her. She slumbered, a death-like sleep took over, as the whispers of another filed the depts that once served as kingdom for the wretched gods of darkness and corruption.

“ _Sleep my dear, forget thy sorrow._ ”

She cared not for who it was that showed her pity. She was too tired to mind their intrusion. So she slept, embraced by an endless ocean that no longer raged against the fate bestowed upon it. Anger met pain. Together they danced and wept, consumed each other until there was nothing left, only void.

At first, it was a whisper, a gleaming sparkle that disturbed the darkness. She heard it; her senses told her about it, but she did not bother to wake up. The whisper turned to screams, ones she was used to hearing so long ago, when he was by her side, yet she still did not come out. As time passed, the cries were accompanied by something else, weak whimpers and pleas for something unknown, and the sparkle from the beginning became a constant presence in that forsaken place along with pain. The sea was raging again, taking the form of sharp tendrils to protect itself and the one submerged beneath. Even after that light was gone, the black waters did not calm down, neither did the screams. Something about them unsettled her. She woke up, after eons of slumber, finally leaving the void that served as her resting place. Oh! How she wished she didn’t, especially now when her sight was back. On the shores where she once shed her tears, countless empty, glowing eyes stared at her, hovering above ivory masks and dark colored capes. Corpses of the restless ones.

Their sight moved something within the heart she had thought dead. Days passed by, and their company became dear to her. Through the void taken to the surface, she learned about the state of the world above. How much it changed in her absence. The gods she once knew were gone, none left to worship them anymore. She and her dead lover, forgotten and lost to the currents of time. Not like many knew of them to begin with but still. The new gods that now ruled were at war with each other, again. She felt rage sink its talons in her being. Each shade, each corpse, a victim to a pointless fight that always made the innocents pay for. Just like before, just like them. She would have loved to eradicate them, let her darkness consume these detestable beings and end their reign, but she couldn’t.

The little ones… they still wished for their father to live. No grudge was held against the Pale King as he took to calling himself. The one taken, the one whose fate was meant to be the worst of it all, hearing her whispers calling for him back home and feeling her wretched intentions, he begged her to cease her anger. There was another one, a child who left the Abyss before she woke up. He too asked for forgiveness, as he could not stand the death of innocents. And she obliged. To make them sad, to add more sorrow to the one they already had, she couldn’t do it.

Time passed again. In the darkness, listening to the talks of the ones above, blissfully unaware of the danger they were surrounded with, she learned. An idea made its way through her mind. To give them life, it was beyond her power, but she could give them something else, a place to belong to, a place where no one will harm them again. She created it, a plane of existence weaved from the memories of the world before the old gods destroyed it in their worthless battles combined with fragments of the one existing now, so they could enjoy the beauty that their siblings witnessed in the world above and more.

The process, it drained her, her powers weakening along with her existence, severing her connection with the void, but she did not care. When it was all done, she created a path, a way for the lost ones to come back, to join their siblings, hidden on the surface. Lastly, with the remains of her strength, she gave birth. Tears filled her eyes as her fingers touched the smooth horned mask, her own child, eternal protector of this realm. Gently, she placed the child in a chair, a throne for the new ruler, standing in a greenhouse that would serve as her chamber, surrounded by the shades, who watched in amazement as their sister opened her eyes and looked at the dying goddess, at the mother whose body was falling apart.

_“Nocturne, this is your kingdom,_

_None shall oppose you,_

_None shall be able to claim it from you._

_Unmatched in power and strength,_

_May you never know tears. or pain.”_

With these words, the goddess died, her body turning to ash. Some was taken by a gentle breeze and when they fell to the ground, black, crimson and white flowers, more beautiful and bigger than any other plant in that place, sprouted and under the light of the silver moon, they bloomed, spreading a hypnotizing scent around. Some were taken to the ponds nearby, and they turned into black snakes, their scales shining like precious stones. Others became butterflies, their wings depicting curious patterns, pleasing to one’s eyes. In basins with charcoal not yet light up, ashes gave birth to azure flames, dancing violently like their life depended on it. Many insects and plants came to life from the remains of the goddess, the children witnessing their creation in awe. 

Nocturne watched them as well, the remains of a mother that had given her life for her child. Created to resemble the shells of her siblings, yet still be different from them. She was a god. She had a voice, a will of her own, a mind to think with. There was a heart in her chest, one that could feel and hurt and do so much more. Beside her was a large, shining sword, made out of silver, in the image of the weapon the other god had once wielded during the battle that proved to be his demise. Nocturne looked at it, admiring the handiwork and the delicate models it was engraved with, ancient enchantments giving it more strength and making the blade far more deadly than any other one that mortal hands could conceive. Driven by an invisible force, she took the weapon, amazed at how light it was in her hands, and swung it around, cutting some of the grass around her and setting it ablaze in a violent explosion of the same blue flames that offered light. Just as her mother had said, she was powerful, strength flowing through her veins with every move. Nocturne smiled, tears flowing down her face. How blessed she was. She had barely been born, yet she already knew how deep a mother’s love could go.


	2. A crimson flower

It was supposed to be just another day, exploring the vast kingdom of Hallownest and mapping the areas he had seen, nothing more. Yet, ever since he left home, it had been nothing but one problem after another. First, he tripped over some stones and spilled nearly half of his ink, then he somehow ended up dropping some papers in the acidic waters of the Fungal Wastes. To add insult to the injury, he nearly fell in a hole full of spikes in the Ancient Basin. Swallowing back tears and gathering his courage, he continued on. That day hadn’t been going well at all. As he was heading towards a safe spot to draw the areas he had seen, he came across an odd-looking rock. If it was anyone else, they would have paid it no attention, but not Cornifer. Oh, no! Such a weird shaped stone had to be examined.

As he was inspecting it, a terrible rumbling could be heard, rushing towards his direction. At the last second, the cartographer managed to dodge the incoming beast, a lesser mawlek, who crashed against the rock, destroying it and revealing a hidden tunnel. One of the shattered bits of the stone fell on the creature, its sharp edge killing it, sparing Cornifer the need to run for his life. He sighed in relief and joy. Not only did he escape the fate of being the food of some beast, but he also found a new path to explore. Things were finally looking up for him. With his resolve anew, heart filled with excitement at the new discovery, he took out his lumafly lantern and began exploring the new path.

The air was cold, the darkness so thick you could cut it with a knife, but the cartographer did not fret. He pressed forward through the tunnel, his eyes paying careful attention to the texture of the rocks, amazed by their smooth surface. That passage wasn’t natural, something or rather someone created it. After walking for a half of an hour, he began to see patches of green grass and moss here and there, becoming more frequent the deeper he went. Finally, he reached the end of the tunnel, his jaw dropping at the sight in front of him.

All around him, flowers of all kinds were blooming under the light of a pale ball, high up in the sky. Some of them, their petals the color of night, light and fire, were so big and beautiful, Cornifer picked one, a young, scarlet bud not matured yet, to take it home, to his wife, where they could stare at it forever. There were also trees whose trunks were lowered to the ground as if to serve as couches then growing normally, some whose branches were taller having ropes and swings tied by them. Basins with blue flames were scattered around the place, spreading a calming, gentle light. A large building stood alone in the area. It looked like a greenhouse, the architecture resembling the buildings in the Queen’s Gardens.

Cornifer wanted to cry. If only Iselda was there to share this moment with him. He wanted to explore it, find out more about this place. He began walking forward, but after a few steps he saw them, glowing white eyes staring at him, dark shadows floating in the air. He froze, not knowing what to do, when a voice spoke.

_“Oh, what’s this?_

_A visitor? How peculiar._

_Thou are not of our kind._

_Thou hast no place here._

_Turn back and leave,_

_Before our blade meets thy flesh.”_

Cornifer didn’t need to be told twice. Without a second wasted, he turned on his heels and ran, sparing no look behind. That day had been the worst of his life.

“Well done, my friend. Well done.” Grimm said bowing to the little knight in front of him. Such a passionate dance they shared. When was the last time he got to enjoy one this much? If only time would allow it, he would have liked to indulge in the company of this small shadow a bit more. But the Ritual came first, and he could not oppose it, no matter how much he wanted. Expressing his hatred towards the actions to come was useless. It only served in bringing further distress.

The knight bowed in return, as the Grimmchild settled in on their head between their antlers. They felt bad that it ended so quickly, the adrenaline, the rush. They had never experienced anything like that before. Brumm’s music made things all the more exciting as well. Now, there was only a bitter feeling left behind. They knew the end was near, but something about it bothered them. They knew there was more to this Ritual than Grimm had told them, and they contemplated on whether or not to ask him. How they would do that wasn’t really a problem, given how the Troupe Master had a talent at picking up their thought, the sentences they could not give voice to. Yet, they couldn’t bring themselves to do it. Very few times they feared the unknown, and this was one of them. No, that was wrong. In this case, the unknown was comforting, it offered solace. It was the truth, the reality that was scary. Maybe, they could put the gathering of the flames on hold, at least for a short while. Earn a little bit more time.

Grimm may have seemed scary, but he wasn’t after you got to spend some time with him. Once one got past his eerie behavior and eccentric personality, he was a pleasure to have around. He liked to keep the atmosphere bright, mysterious and he had no problems with carrying the little ones in his arms, while Brumm was playing in the background. He did so once, a memory the knight was fond of. It happened after they had gathered the first flame in the Crystal Peak, and they were tired, given how restless the young one had been, eager to return to his father and boast about their achievement, not allowing his comrade a moment of rest. When they stepped into the main arena of the tent, as soon as the Troupe Master saw them, he scolded his child, while rushing to aid the vessel nearly falling on their feet.

Being swooped into someone’s arms startled them, but the warmth of Grimm’s body felt so good, they couldn’t help but fall asleep, their mask pressed against his chest. It was so much better than the bench outside. The Troupe Master sensed the same paternal feeling he had towards the child that will soon replace him, extend to the small knight in his arms. He called for Brumm, and ordered him to play the Grimmchild’s favorite lullaby, the little rascal also cuddled in his embrace, next to his friend, ready to drift to sleep. The bug complied and the melody began, the Master walking around the stage while cradling the two children. Nobody had ever been like that to the knight. Everyone showed them kindness, but this… this was different. It reminded them of someone, but they couldn’t recall who. Only a whisper, a faint voice following them once, a long time ago, before it disappeared, to never be heard again. Grimm was special to them. Was that what others called having a father? Maybe and that only made the Ritual’s imminent end feel sourer.

As they stood there, in sweet silence after the dance was over, Grimm swooped the little ones in his arms once more, stepping outside with them, in the cold nighttime air. The Troupe Master walked towards the Howling Cliffs where the gates to the kingdom once sealed shut, now lie shattered by the knight’s nail from when they came back, after years of being gone, in a faraway land. Much of the beginning of their journey they couldn’t remember. Once the whispers faded, most of their memories did as well. Still, they knew of Hallownest, a nostalgic feeling leading their steps to this fallen kingdom, seeking answers to questions they could not voice.

Grimm’s stroll came to a halt when he reached the edge of a small cliff, facing the fading town and the tents of his troupe. He took a sit on the rock’s margin, and the two bugs admired the view, the Grimmchild long asleep, chirping in his dreams. The sound of the wind behind them, made the whole moment seem much more special, its fury shielding them from the rest of the world. The knight wished they could do that more, but although Grimm refused to say it, they knew that as soon as the last flames would be harvested, any hope of being like that would vanish. If they could cry and scream, they would do it. They would grab Grimm’s cloak and shake him, beg him to not abandon them, to stay there, by their side. Instead, they choose to remain still, enjoy the warmth, the feeling of being cared for. 

If they were to peek into the mind of the Troupe Master, they could see that he thought the same. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave them alone, but the child needed to grow. His flames weren’t enough. The Heart demanded more, and he could barely provide. Soon, he will fall asleep and won’t wake up. A small mercy provided by the god whom he served, so he won’t sense the pain of death.

It was nearly morning when they returned to Dirtmouth, though the lack of sunlight made it hard to tell the time exactly. Once there, Grimm set the little knight down, together with his child, perched on their head still asleep, and bid them farewell. There were yet arrangements to be made before he went into his deep slumber. The vessel looked at him, his tall figure disappearing in the darkness of the scarlet tent. An impulse to run after him and hold on to his cape, refusing to let go, took hold, but… they didn’t act on it. It would have been too painful for both parties to express the feelings lurking within.

They went to the center of the town, where Elderbug waited for them on the iron bench where they first met. The bug looked at them, their stoic mask giving no signs of the turmoil inside. They took a sit besides the elder one, waiting for the Grimmchild to wake up and then… and then what? Gather the flames? Aid the inevitable? Saddening thoughts went through their mind, and they so wanted to cry, to let it all out, but they couldn’t.

As they stood there, not knowing what to do, the sound of heavy steps that could belong to none other than Cornifer disturbed their train of thought. They could hear him breathing heavily, and when they looked his way, they saw the rivers of sweat falling down on him, dirt clinging on to his shell, a scarlet bud held tight in one of his hands. He must have been running like crazy to be so worn out. The knight got up from their spot on the bench, unwillingly jolting the child on their head awake, and went to get Iselda from the shop who had opened not long ago, while Elderbug went to ask what happened.

The bug was surprised to see them, and when they grabbed her hand, motioning her to the door, she followed, curious. When her eyes fell upon her husband’s distressed look, she rushed to his side, showering him with questions of his well-being. His words were a mess, they barely made sense, and nobody present could understand what he was saying. Iselda managed to calm him down a bit, enough for the cartographer to walk the short distance to their house, leaving Elderbug, the little knight and a whining Grimmchild wondering what happened.

They waited in silence for Iselda to come out and enlighten them, the vessel unable to think of anything else other than the bud that Cornifer had. It was very beautiful, seemingly delicate and soft. An idea slowly came over them, making them impatient for Iselda’s return. When the bug came out, they ran up to her, nearly crashing their head on her legs. She looked down on them, assuming that their restlessness was due to Cornifer’s state and their worry for him.

“He is fine, dear. Just a little stressed.” she said, gently rubbing the little one’s hand, before the Grimmchild who had been fluttering around demanded rubs as well.

“What happened to him?” Elderbug said, coming closer.

“I don’t know. All he said was that he found a new path, and something about glowing eyes. He’s still too shocked to say anything coherent.” Iselda said, throwing a worried look towards her home where her husband was now resting.

The information provided wasn’t very useful, but it was still something. Iselda made it know that it would take some time for Cornifer to tell them what truly happened, but they knew they couldn’t sit and do nothing while waiting. They decided to go down the well and try to find that path on their own, at least until the cartographer offer more information.


	3. In the Queen’s presence

The knight had walked for hours, but they had no luck. Even with the Grimmchild who adored exploring every crack and corner he came across; they couldn’t find the mysterious path that Cornifer had discovered. They went as far as to descent to the Kingdom’s Edge where the land was dangerous and fragmented, the possibility of a new path being there significantly higher than in any other part of the kingdom.

Giving up, they decided to go back to Dirtmouth, hoping that the cartographer had regained his composure enough to talk about the origins of that mysterious flower that captivated them so and if it all went well, its charm would work on Grimm as well. Even if it was a blossom as delicate as the one that the Grey Mourner had them deliver to the grave of her lover, they would go on with their plan, but that possibility seemed less likely. The knight highly doubted that the large bug took great care of it, given how hurried he had been to reach his home.

They headed to the tram station and took the opportunity to rest while the metal transport took them to the Ancient Basin. They hadn’t realized how tired they had been, but it was to be expected. They rushed in battle after battle on their way there, too focused in their task to even care about the state of their shell. Now, as they sunk into the soft fabric of the chairs, their thoughts came back to haunt them, powered by the disappointment of their failure. 

The Grimmchild, however, wasn’t very kin on the trip. He always preferred the walks on foot, rather than any other meaning of transportation. Not even the stag’s merry attitude managed to change his mind. He tried his best to stay still, sensing his companion’s distress, but his mischievous nature got the better of him, and soon, he found himself chewing at the knight’s antlers. The later realized shortly after being entrusted with his care that it was pointless to try and stop him, so they stood there, thankful that the little one’s fangs weren’t sharp enough to cause damage, yet.

When the tram reached the station in the Ancient Basin, the knight got down from their seat, and planned to head to the stag station near the ruins of the White Palace, but their path was cut short by a large Grimmkin Nightmare who charged at them as soon as he saw the two. The small vessel had no intention of harvesting the flame, but they knew that their opponent didn’t care about it. They had no choice, but to attack. The fight was long, as this Grimmkin had a few tricks up their sleeves, especially those fire pillars and there was also the knight’s own hesitation. They didn’t want to do it, afraid that this will affect Grimm somehow. When the finishing blow was dealt, and the Grimmchild consumed the flame, they could feel something inside them shatter. If only they had a voice to scream with. What if something happened to Grimm? They weren’t offered the time to cry, as the little bug’s nose caught the scent of something sweet and he flew off towards where the fragrance came from. The smell was new and if it was sweet of course he had to see what it was and eat it. What if it was a delicious treat and he missed it? Absolutely unforgivable! 

With his companion slowly falling behind, he flew to a dark corridor where a dead mawlek lie crushed by rocks. He paid no attention to it, the scent that caught his attention coming from the other side of the tunnel. Without a second thought or waiting for his friend, the child headed in, the smell getting stronger as he proceeded, a bit too strong for his little nose. Getting dizzy, he fell down, on a cold patch of moss, he hadn’t noticed, but which thankfully prevented him from harm. The knight finally caught up to him, ready to scold the little rascal for this chase when they saw it.

In the distance was a crimson blossom, fully opened unlike the one Cornifer had brought with him. Overjoyed, they hugged the bug who was at this point, drunk on the scent he so earnestly followed just a few moments ago. With Grimmchild in their arms, they ran towards the blooming plant, but stopped at the sight of the area in front of them. The azure flames and the flowers, the round object in the sky, the glass and metal building, and most of all, the shades floating around staring at them with glowing eyes. It all startled and amazed them. A strange feeling wrapped itself around their being. They felt safe, welcomed, they…. they felt at home. They took a few steps inside that place, looking around for any dangers that may lurk within, when a voice which seemed to come from the greenhouse in front, echoed throughout the garden.

_“Another one passes the threshold of our realm,_

_But what is this? Thou are one of us._

_A lost child returned home._

_Fear not, little one,_

_Thou hast nothing to be scared of here._

_Come! Bend thy knee before us,_

_Let us welcome thou in Viridiam,_

_Which serves as our refuge in this cruel world.”_

The knight obliged to the voice, heading to the greenhouse, where two large iron framed gates had opened, inviting them inside. There, they found plants growing in large pots and ceramic planters, the air having an incredibly strong scent, too much for the Grimmchild who began to regret his chase. What he wouldn’t give to set the place ablaze. In the middle of the large structure was a black throne, surrounded by thorns on each side, on which stood the most eerie being the knight had ever seen. Not even Grimm could measure up to it.

It was tall. On its head, it had a large mask, almost like theirs, were it not for the horns that twisted and wrapped around a dark mist on top of its head, as if it were a cage and three black eyes giving off the sternest gaze the knight had ever seen. It had 4 arms, white claws on each finger. The garment it wore was a long, grey dress, with a plate of armor on its chest, a white, spiked pauldron on the left shoulder and a gauntlet on each of its right hands. The being motioned the knight to approach, and they did, kneeling in an awkward position - they never kneeled before after all – when they were face to face with it, eyes fixated on its mask, on the mouth which gave a slight smile at the sight of respect it was being offered.

_“Rise child. That’s enough._

_We are Nocturne, queen of this realm._

_We salute thou dearly._

_Thou are welcome to stay._

_Make thyself at home._

_Whatever needs thou may have,_

_Bring them before this throne,_

_We shall see that they are taken care of._

_Thy friend shall be accommodated as well.”_

Nocturne said, her firm and cold tone warming up as she spoke. She gently picked up the knight from the ground and set them on her lap, rubbing their chin with one hand while another one patted the Grimmchild on the head. Her black eyes had a certain glimmer inside them, one that the knight saw whenever Grimm was holding his child. She noticed their curious gaze and set them back down.

“ _Why are thou giving us such looks?_

_Was our gesture insulting?_

_Apologies in that case,_

_We meant no offense._ ”

The knight shook their head. They didn’t dislike it at all, rather it made them feel happy. They liked being held. From the corner of their eye, they noticed the flowers they had been looking for. Luckily, these ones were also smaller than those outside and pointed towards them. Nocturne followed the direction they indicated, her gaze falling upon the plant in question. She smiled and extended her hand towards it, a black spider appearing in her palm. It went to the plant and swiftly, it cut off one of the buds, then returned with it to its master, before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. Nocturne held the blossom up towards the knight.

“ _Are thou interested in this peony?_ ”

The knight nodded, and took the flower from the queen, trying to thank her. The opened blossom was far more beautiful than they thought it would be. Still, offering only one didn’t feel right. They looked at Nocturne and tried to express their wish for more.

_“Thou are free to take however many thou wish,_

_But, forgive our curiosity, for we must ask,_

_What is the purpose of thy desire?”_

They stood still for a moment, thinking of how to convey to her their story, their feelings of gratitude for Grimm who treated them as his own child, how worried they were that soon, they won’t be able to see him anymore, and they wanted to offer him a gift. That would take a lot of mimicry and they didn’t know if it would work. Nocturne waited patiently for their answer, her attention partially on the small ones and on the shades, who snuck inside the greenhouse.

They wanted to play, and she could not refuse. She got up from her throne and went to pick a few more flowers, then she offered the bouquet to the knight, who accepted it happily. The plants were a bit heavier than they expected, but they were happy to have gotten them, at last. They followed Nocturne outside, watching her go and play with the shades who were floating around her, trying to catch her attention, and hide from each other behind her tall figure. They would have liked to stay, the tranquility of the place tempted them to, but they couldn’t. They had someone to surprise, after all, and time was of essence. Nocturne watched them leave in a hurry through the tunnel that led to the outside world, but before she could stop them, some shades popped in front of her, obstructing her vision and demanding attention.


	4. The Price of a Smile

Grimm was still awake. Through great effort he resisted the Ritual’s call to sleep. He sensed the first flame being harvested, and he had to admit that it pained him. He hoped that the knight wouldn’t begin to gather them so quickly, but it looked like he was wrong. Through his kin’s eyes, he noticed their hesitation, not at all like the bravery they displayed before, in all the other battles. Almost like they didn’t want to fight. Grimm couldn’t help a smile.

The little one grew so much on him. Leaving them behind hurt, though the feeling wasn’t new. Every Troupe Master felt the regret of having to part with their spawn, the pain of never watching them grow came crushing over them each time the end drew near. It was one of the reasons behind their slumber. They died without having the chance to see their children once more, without giving way for their agony to deepen. The Heart thought it was mercy, they thought it was cruel. The chance to say goodbye, to hug their offspring one last time, taken away from them like their very lives. He won’t go down the same path. He will make use of the little time he had left before the last flame was to be harvested. He will have his farewell! He owned it after all, to his child, to himself, to every Grimmchild before him who felt abandoned by his parent after the Ritual was over. 

Brumm looked at his master, at the sorry state he was in. Grimm wasn’t well, anyone could see that. He barely paid attention to his surroundings, knocking things over and bumping into the musician or Divine. The large bug got tired of seeing him sleepwalking. She swooped him up, placed the confused master on her large torso and headed to the nearest hot spring followed by the musician.

“Mrm, are you sure about this?” Brumm asked, looking at her.

“Ahhhhh, lovely. It will be fine.” Divine said, waving him off.

“Mrm.”

“What are you two taking about?” Grimm said, nearly dozing off, before he slapped himself awake with both hands, leaving red handprints on his cheeks.

“Mrm… well…” Brumm tried to find the words to say, but how was he supposed to tell his master who hated water that they were taking him to a spring?

The musician had no desire of hearing him screech like a Grimmchild all the way there. Granted he didn’t know if Grimm had the power left in him to scream, even talking seemed to tire him out. Nevertheless, he wasn’t curious enough to test him. Divine, however, had no restrains. Whether the journey would be quiet or not was all the same to her.

“Ahh, we’re just taking you to a very nice spring, lovely!”

“Spring?” Grimm said, his voice fading as he spoke. He didn’t seem to catch the meaning of what was happening.

Brumm didn’t know whether to be happy or worried. Grimm needed to sleep, that was beyond obvious, but he was stubborn and refused. He wanted to spend more time with his children. An admirable wish, a father’s devotion that could melt the coldest hearts.

They reached the hot springs quickly; the roads having been cleaned up of the infected bugs by the little knight. Before Grimm could make sense of his surroundings, Divine grabbed him and tossed him in the warm waters, earning herself a scream from a panicked Brumm.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” the musician yelled, jumping into the spring and helping his master up.

At least, the result they were looking for didn’t delay appearing. The soul in water replenished Grimm’s energy, and he had no trouble staying awake now, at least for a few days. He refused Brumm’s help who tried to get him out of the spring and sat down, with his back supported by the wall behind him. His hatred for water could be set aside now. He enjoyed the warm feeling he was surrounded by, as the soul helped him regain his strength.

“Mrm, master, are you alright?” Brumm asked.

“Yes. I feel quite fine, thank you.” he said, closing his eyes. He didn’t need to fear the threat of sleep now. “Just a little bit more and then we can leave.” 

“Ahh! Told you he will be ok.” Divine laughed, patting the musician on the shoulder.

“Mrm, you still didn’t need to toss him in the water.” Brumm mumbled under his breath, still loud enough for the two bugs to hear him.

“I must agree with that. Please do treat me more gently next time, miss Divine.” Grimm added, eyes still closed, inhaling the humid air.

“Will do, master. Hee-hee.” the large female covered the unmasked half of her mouth to snuffle a giggle, but in vain. Throwing your boss into water felt good regardless if he was nice or bad to you. The rush of adrenaline when rebelling against authority was addictive. She won’t toss him next time, directly.

“I guess, it would be too much to ask for a song now, would it?”

“Mrm, sure.” Brumm said and took the accordion off his back, beginning to play a slow song that Grimm usually like to listen to after one of his performances.

After a few more minutes of music and warmth, the Troupe Master got up from the spring, his cloak now soaked and hanging heavily around his body. Well, no matter, his flames would dry it up in a few moments. Together with the other two, he left the spring and headed towards the well, chatting lively with Divine, while Brumm returned to his taciturn self. He spoke enough for that day, that whole week even.

They reached the well just in time to see the little ones accompanied by a tall bug with a strange mask over his head. He was helping the knight carry something, red flowers from what Grimm could see, the strong and sweet scent filling his nostrils with each breath he took. He hurried towards them and called out to the children, only to be greeted with a face-dive by none other than a really annoyed Grimmchild. The Troupe Master laughed as he took the whining child off his face and held him tight in his now dried cloak. The knight hurried to his side as well, carrying the rather large bouquet of flowers, followed by the bug who was trying to hold back a chuckle.

Quirrel and the knight ran into each other while the little one was coming out from the Ancient Basin, carefully carrying the crimson peonies. They decided against using the stag station, since they were worried that the plants may not make it through the journey. When the bug found them, the Grimmchild was trying his best to eat or set the buds on fire, much to their displeasure. Quirrel’s presence was a godsent! He helped them get the bouquet up to Dirtmouth, since it was a bit too heavy for the knight and they were also preoccupied with stopping the Grimmchild from damaging it. The bug tried to find out where his friend got those blossoms from, but their stoicism did not make it possible for them to answer. They still made a mental note to show him the way to Nocturne’s realm. She did say that their needs will be taken care of and she didn’t mind the presence of the Grimmchild. Maybe she wouldn’t mind Quirrel either.

When Grimm called out to them, the void inside their shell became restless. Now that they had to give him the bouquet, they felt their feet getting cold. What if he didn’t like it? Their mind was filled with scenarios of how it could go wrong. They tried to chase them away and stepped forward, gathering their courage. It was now or never.

“What is it, my dear friend?” Grimm said, looking at them.

They held out the bouquet of flowers, inviting him to take it. The Troupe Master blinked at them, looking at their white mask and then at the peonies in their small hands. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes, but he fought them back. He gave the Grimmchild to Brumm, and kneeled down to take the peonies, gently caressing their soft petals and breathing in deeply their fragrance. How he managed to keep himself together and not break down and cry; he didn’t know. Maybe it was his talent as a performer, but he didn’t shed a tear as his heart beat so quickly, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions washing over him. Oh! He didn’t want to go.

“Thank you, my dear friend.” he said, giving the little one the warmest smile, straight from the bottom of his heart.

They wanted to smile seeing the happiness on Grimm’s face and knowing that their gift was a success, yet their mask did not allow for such comfort. They resorted to hugging him, careful not to crush the flowers. They were surprised when the Troupe Master swooped them up in his arms, holding them with one hand and the bouquet with the other. They wrapped their arms around his neck and buried their face in his chest, feeling their consciousness drift away. Slowly, they fell asleep, enveloped by warmth and the sweet fragrance of the peonies.


	5. Gods and Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah, things are getting weirder from here on out... well, I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless and I would really like to hear your opinion on this.

Nocturne waited and waited, but the little one did not return, just like the others. They weren’t the first to leave Viridiam, as many have taken to calling her realm. Though few, others vessels have chosen to venture in the world outside, forgetting the pain it had caused them. She tried to find the reason behind their departure. The answer she received did not help much.

“They’re calling us. Our sibling is calling.” one of those that left told her, before their steps carried them outside, and never returned.

Nocturne let out a heavy sigh. She couldn’t hear anything, a painful remainder of the truth that she wasn’t like them. Her body may have resembled theirs to an extent, but their essence was different. She lacked the supposed emptiness, the void that defiled their being and turned them into restless souls trying to find peace until the purpose of their existence was fulfilled. When that day would come, Nocturne often found herself wondering what would become of her. To protect them and Viridiam was all she ever knew, it was what she was birthed for. The goddess didn’t know if she had the power to break the shackles chaining her down.

To make it worse, Stolas informed her that such a feat may never be possible. She spent too many years bound to the realm, and as it bend and obeyed her will, it began to depend on her. Were she to leave, Viridiam will disappear, unable to sustain its own existence. It needed her now and Nocturne could not leave knowing that her mother’s legacy would succumb to ruin. She couldn’t bear it, but the fact that she couldn’t go after the little ones pained her as well. She did send spiders to follow them, but they didn’t return either, disappearing in the world outside, and their connection to her was severed too from the moment they exited Viridiam. There was something out there, something wicked that did not want her to interfere in its affairs.

Now, Nocturne was sitting on the swing hanging over the crystal-clear lake near the greenhouse, as the shades were following the fishes swimming peacefully, splashing each other and throwing flower petals on the surface of the water. Her eyes wondered over the reflection of her white face, the twisted horns and the black flames that burned ceaselessly between them and then at the few shades that still wore their masks, playing in the grass and climbing the petite trees. So alike, yet so different. She thought of the little one and began to wonder where they may be again. Nothing hurt her more than knowing that she was failing her very purpose. Some protector she was.

“Something bothering you?” a demonic voice came from the shadows near the queen.

An owl shaped figure, with feathers black as the dead of night and feet as long as its upper body emerged from the darkness, its big, red eyes staring at the masked queen. It didn’t move, the moonlight falling upon the silver crown that may have meant something among other demons, but in the presence of the goddess, it was a mere decoration. Nocturne looked at him, one of the few outsiders allowed to go and leave as they pleased. A mere… favor to say the least.

Many entered Viridiam, some were gods, some were demons, but very few were allowed to stay or return. The higher beings usually tried to persuade her to become their ally, some going as far as trying to seduce her, hoping that they may get their hands on her power. Needless to say, she spared no mercy on the later. She let one escape once and warn his brethren not to try such foolishness again. Some understood, others didn’t and through their arrogance, their fate was sealed. The demons, on the other hand, were less sly about their intentions. The thought of acting like the gods they so despised, disgusted them to no end. Those who wished to fight, openly challenged her and when they lost, if they survived, they pledged their allegiance to her. Others had no desire of testing their arm against her, but also had no intention of joining her court. She did allow them entrance, but the threat of her sword was always hanging above their heads. In return, they offered her knowledge and stories of the world above, a world she would never see.

Stolas was one such demon. A Great Prince of Inferno, his pride did not allow him to bow so easily to another, be it god or not. He treated Nocturne as an equal, though the goddess did not return the feeling. Tired of his home, he liked to visit her realm and gaze upon the pale moonlight. Like the rest of his kind, it was a weird tranquility that drove him to come here. The worlds, the gods, the humans, the demons and bugs, they all went mad. There was very little sanity left around. Here, at least he could forget about it. Sure, Nocturne had her own problems, but they were much more meaningful than the ones that the other divine beings concerned themselves with.

Ah! Stolas missed the old gods. Those at least cared about their worshipers, about the lands birthed from their thoughts, flesh and power. The ones that came after them were just spoiled brats that believed everything had to be handed to them on a silver platter, whining like banshees when things didn’t go their way. No. Banshees were spirits of sorrow. Their cries had reason. The gods were just whining like mindless children. Such a humiliating sight! Where was the glorious pride?! Where was the light that drove away the darkness and made it kneel in its presence?! Gone. Vanished. And what was left of it? Entitlement and depravation! Even demons were ashamed to look upon the divine now.

Nocturne was different. Her very birth was for the purpose of protecting innocents fallen prey to a worthless feud between two lights, neither better than the other. She cared about the shades and her heart felt like being stabbed whenever they chose to leave her side. If there was a possibility to allow them the eternal rest they longed for, she would have done it, despite her fears, but so far there was none. Her mother did not share such knowledge before her departure.

Stolas remembered the wicked goddess of corruption and her mate, the incarnation of darkness. Many times he gazed upon their splendor and longed to make himself remarked in their eyes. His wish never came true, as many other demons had the same desire leading to a fierce competition between them. They may have been creatures of evil, who rebelled against the light, but deep inside, they still longed to bask in the presence of the divine. When the war broke out, they thought that was their chance to earn the acknowledgement they so desperately wanted. But it wasn’t like that. One of them died, betrayed by a god who pretended to be their ally. The goddess soon followed her lover in eternal sleep and with that, the demons abandoned them as well, crushed by the failure of their dream to come true. Yet, hope sparkled once more, when Nocturne was born. She lacked her mother’s dominant presence, but the connection between them was still obvious and Stolas clung onto it with all his power. He had one more chance and he didn’t want to lose it again.

Nocturne motioned to a branch near her and the demon flew towards it, wrapping his sharp talons around the dark wood. They stood in silence, some shades approached the newcomer, but they returned to their games when he paid them no attention.

_“What is it thou want, owl?_

_What brings one such as thou in our presence?”_

“Nothing special, Queen Nocturne. I merely came hoping you may allow me a few moments of peace in your quiet gardens.” Stolas replied, a bit hurt by her tone. Was he really such a nuisance?

_“Then feel free to stay._

_Thou art welcome as long as_

_Thou do not disturb these children.”_

“Thank you, your Highness. Your hospitality is most appreciated.” the demon gave a light, polite bow. At least that much he could do.

Together, the two gazed upon the realm, chuckling from time to time at the sight of the shades playing together. Stolas took the liberty of sharing some knowledge about the plants near them, about the stars and their movements, the constellations and the story behind them. Nocturne devoured his words, her hunger for information about the world above was the only thing that alleviated the pain of never being able to see it. When the demon stopped talking, she gave him a curious look, trying to hide the disappointment within.

“ _Why had thou stopped?_ ”

“Pardon my rudeness, but I must speak my mind. I can see that something is troubling you. May I hear what it is?”

_“Thou hast enough problems as is._

_Ours are not that important._

_To burden thee with them is not necessary,_

_But thy thought is much appreciated.”_

“Please do not worry about me. My problems are caused by none other than immature children who like to play god. To say that they even deserve my attention is an insult.” Stolas said, a slight note of annoyance in his tone. Indeed, his current problem was a quarrel with a lesser god who wanted his lands to create some sort of… shrine?

The demon didn’t understand anything from his nonsensical chatter. For crying out loud! These guys couldn’t even communicate their plans correctly. He kept talking about some temple and then jumped to some rubbish about how mortals didn’t appreciate him enough and then insulted the demons, saying they had no class – “Look who’s talking!” Stolas fought to keep the words from escaping his beak - and so on. The Great Prince had a headache only after 3 minutes since that god started talking. When he refused to surrender his lands, his guest began screaming and crying. The demon felt like ripping his ears off. Oh! How he wanted to kill that insufferable vermin that dared claim himself to be a divine being! The old ones must be rolling in their graves at this blasphemy.

Now, in Viridiam, overwhelmed by its tranquility, he finally felt his nerves relaxing at last. That was the only place where he could catch his breath after a long day of dealing with cretins. Compared to them, Nocturne actually cared about her subjects. She wasn’t full of herself. Stolas wondered if she actually had any interest in being worshiped. So far, she never asked for offerings or other gifts. Not even the demons under her rule were asked to give her praise or sign glory to her. The only thing she wished from them was for them to answer her calls in times of need. Stolas appreciated that. Her mother was like that too, before grief took her away. He wondered if she was still the same after she woke up. If only he was there to see one last time.

_“They truly get to thou, do they?”_

Nocturne also shared his distaste of the divine beings and was thankful to not have to deal with them. Even if she did, she let her sword do the talking.

“I envy you, your Highness. As a god, you are free to raise your weapon and kill them as you please, granted that they trespass your kingdom. Given your lineage, they won’t dare complain. We, demons, have no such comfort.” Stolas sighed.

_“Thou art free to come whenever thou wishes,_

_The other demons are welcome as well._

_It would do good for these children to learn_

_Not to fear those of darkness.”_

“Much appreciated, but such kindness must be repaid. Please, do share your troubles with me. I may be able to help.”

_“Such words from a demon.”_

Nocturne chuckled.

“I may be a demon, Queen, but I am a Great Prince, and I shall act as such.” Stolas said and took on an imposing stance, puffing up his chest, the crown on his head shining under the moonlight like a diamond in the rays of the sun.

He was one of the few demons that held great pride in their title and acted on it, resisting their evil nature. He preferred diplomacy over savageness, and rarely resorted to brute force or cheap tricks. He was usually calm, but when he got mad, he knew how to make his victims rue the day they crossed paths with him. Though Nocturne never said it, he was a dear friend to her. She knew she could trust him.

_“Very well…_

_We think of the little one that has left us._

_They had not come back, and we fear for the worst._

_Locked in here, we cannot see nor follow them._

_And our spiders are of no help either.”_

“If that is the case, maybe a Black Shuck could help.” Stolas proposed, thinking of the black hounds that roamed the land of the Vikings.

_“A Black Shuck thou propose…_

_Hm! That might work._

_One has pledged his loyalty to us not long ago.”_

Nocturne said and she motioned her hand towards the shadows near the swing through which Stolas came in. The darkness began to boil, bubbles and a strong stench of brimstone began to rise in the air, as a huge, furry dog with eyes as red as the blood lakes of Inferno appeared, foam at its mouth and fangs showing as it growled. It approached the queen and kneeled on its front paws, letting out a deep bark. The goddess got down from the swing and bend down to pet the hound. She feared not the dangerous creature, for they were loyal to their masters, especially women. The monster lifted its gaze to meet hers, awaiting the orders to come.

“Choose your words carefully, your Highness. The Black Shuck may be loyal, but it is still a demon.” Stolas warned Nocturne.

_“Thank thee, our friend._

_Thy advice is appreciated.”_

Nocturne said, before returning her attention to the hound in front of her.

_“Ater, our dear servant, a task we have for thee now._

_In the world outside, one of our kind walks around._

_Small, with a white mask like ours, and a blue cape,_

_Accompanied by a petite bug with eyes dark as night._

_Find them and bring them to us,_

_But do not harm them.”_

Ater listened to his orders and let out a loud bark that echoed strongly through Viridiam, scaring the shades that hid behind trees and bushes, before running towards the corridor to look for his prey. As he left, Nocturne looked at the dust and black paw prints left behind by him. She could only hope things would be fine.

“You worry too much, your Highness.” Stolas said, reading the face of the queen. How he missed seeing that expression on the faces of the divine. The feeling of compassion that was never directed at demons but, if only for a few seconds, they could find comfort in the lie that it was.


	6. Chase

The knight woke up wrapped in blankets next to a sleeping Grimmchild chirping away and burying its head in the soft pillow beneath them. The children were in a small basket, in what looked like Grimm’s bedroom. They looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen, loud chatter coming from outside. Careful, not to wake up their friend, the knight got down from the basket and went to look. They could hear the Troupe Master, Quirrel and also… Cornifer? They entered the room where the trio could be heard from and saw the three bugs standing around a table, drinking tea, the traveler and cartographer listening to Grimm as he was telling them a story from a land he once visited. The peonies were in a vase in the center of the table, their blossom still open, spreading a sweet scent around. Brumm was playing his accordion as usual, sitting on a crate nearby.

Grimm noticed the little one and stopped mid-sentence, getting up from his chair and going to lift them in his arms.

“Good morning, my dear friend. I’m so happy you woke up. I take it my son is still asleep, seeing as he’s not with you.” his voice echoed through the room.

The knight nodded and Grimm sat back down on his chair, with the little one in his lap, giving them a coup of warm tea. Quirrel and Cornifer smiled and greeted them. They returned the salute with a wave of their tiny hand. The cartographer looked at the flowers, carefully touching the petals of a peony, enjoying their soft feeling. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at the knight who was pouring the tea in one of their eye sockets.

“I must say I’m very impressed you managed to bring so many flowers with you. I was too frightened to even spend one more second in that place.” the bug said, remembering the glowing eyes of those black ghosts and that eerie voice that told him to leave, cold chills running down his spine as he recalled its last words. “You are a very brave one.” he added and patted the little one’s head.

“Was it really that scary?” Quirrel asked. He would have liked to see that mysterious place. His friend didn’t seem scared when asked about it. Rather, they looked happy.

The knight tried to tell them about Nocturne and her realm. She was strange, there was no denying that, but she didn’t seem scary, maybe just overly serious. Their mimicry only left those present more confused and they were about to slam the table in frustration, when Grimm spoke up.

“Maybe we could go and visit it? What do you say, little one?” he looked at the knight and they quickly nodded.

If they couldn’t talk, it was better to show them.

“Ok. It’s settled then. How about we go in two hours? That would give us time to prepare.” the Troupe Master said, clapping his hands together.

“Sounds good to me.” Quirrel agreed, eager to go.

“I’d love to. I can finally draw a map of that area!” Cornifer already made plans.

He was still scared and feared that they won’t have the same luck as the little one. Still, if this journey will go well, he will definitely take Iselda there.

“Alright, gentlemen! We will meet at the well in the town center two hours from now.” Grimm sat up, letting the knight down and offering his guests a smile and a bow. “I’m looking forward to this.” He couldn’t be more sincere.

“Mrm. I don’t agree with this.” Brumm said, as Grimm was struggling to find something that could help with the scent.

His son complained all day long about the peonies’ fragrance and truth be told, it was a bit too strong for him as well. 

“You’re worrying too much, my dear musician.” the Troupe Master pulled some cloths from his drawer and tied one around his face, before inhaling deeply the perfume of the flowers he brought in his room.

It was better, not perfect, but it will have to do. He took one more piece of cloth and placed them in a pocket in his cape. He looked at the hourglass on the counter. There was only half an hour left. Grimm could hardly wait for the trip. It was something new for him, to go on an adventure with bugs, other than his troupe. He planned to make the best of it.

His son was also eager to go. A trip with both his friend and his father felt dreamlike and he couldn’t sit still. He wanted to go now. He plunged at his friend’s face and wrapped his limbs around it, obscuring their vision and began to chew on their antlers. The knight stood still, knowing that resistance was in vain. They only hoped Grimm would see them and lend a helping hand.

“Now, now my child. This is not the way to behave.” the Troupe Master said and tried to pry the little one off the knight. Easier said than done.

Grimmchild hissed in protest, trying to resist his father and spewing small fire balls around. One hit Brumm in the face, but thankfully it didn’t do much damage due to the bug’s mask and only left a dark mark of ash. Grimm apologized and went to clean his musician’s mask, making a mental note to teach his son some manners. Was he always acting like that? No way he could leave it alone. The little trouble maker needed to learn how to behave.

“Mrm…it’s…it’s ok, master.” Brumm said, thankful that Grimm couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks as he scrubbed his mask spotless. “I-I still think you shouldn’t go. Mrm.” he tried to change the subject, to distract himself from the feelings that took his heart by storm with every second Grimm spend so close to him.

“I know you’re worried about me, but…” the Troupe Master took a step back, satisfied with the result. “I don’t have much time left. I want to spend it with my children. I want to make as many memories with them as possible.”

Brumm couldn’t say anything anymore. How could he deny Grimm his last wish? He swallowed back the bitter bile that filled his mouth. Grimm was not his first master. This was not his first Ritual, the first time he had to part with the Troupe Leader, and the sadness was always there, the grief that accompanied those last moments that the troupe got to spend with him. Listening to Grimm talk about his imminent death was horrible. Brumm could barely stand there and say nothing. He wanted to scream, to ask his master what the point of all this was. Was the Ritual really necessary? Was there no other way? He knew the answer and it made him want to throw up. There was nothing he could do, other than stay by his side and try to make the little time he had left as enjoyable as possible. Misery loves company, they say, and they were right. So painfully right.

The knight stood there, both happy and sad. Grimm called them his child, but unwillingly he revealed the truth they always feared. He was dying. When the Ritual was over, he will be gone. They thought about not harvesting the flames at all. Maybe they could do that, avoid the places where the Grimmkin Nightmare lurked in. Maybe Grimm will remain by their side that way.

“Alright! Time to go, children.” The Troupe Master said and lifted the little ones in his arms, still unaware of the secret he leaked out of negligence.

He stepped outside the tent, letting the cold breeze brush his face in its passing. Trying not to hurry too much, he headed towards the well, greeting Elderbug politely on the way. The old bug waved his hand shyly, not yet accustomed to the Grimm Troupe’s presence in that little, silent town.

Quirrel was already there, polishing his nail. He ought to have his weapon ready for the dangers they would met on the road to that place, right? The two bugs saluted each other and soon, Cornifer joined them followed closely by Iselda who didn’t seem happy at all with her husband’s new expedition. He didn’t look very happy either, trying to hide his face or whisper something to her.

“Greetings madam….” Grimm said, but was cut short by the bug’s menacing tone.

“Listen here, guys! I know where you live. If something happens to my husband on this trip, you can be damn sure I’m going to come and rip your hearts out of your chests! Are we clear!?” she nearly screamed. 

All eyes were staring at the mad Iselda, nodding in agreement, not daring to say a word. Well, that was one woman they would never dare upset. The knight was the most startled one. They would have never believed that the kind and loving merchant could hide such a scary personality. Grimmchild buried his face in his father’s cape and began to softly whimper. The Troupe Master instinctively covered the two children, shielding them from Iselda’s rage. She turned around and left, leaving Cornifer to apologize profusely to his friends.

“I’m so, so sorry! She’s just worried about me. Don’t take her seriously, please.”

“It’s ok, sir. We’re just a bit surprised. That’s all.” Grimm tried to calm the situation.

“Grimm is right. And you can rest assured. Nothing will happen to you, or any of us. Now, let’s go.” Quirrel added and jumped down the well, followed by Grimm and Cornifer.

All of them were eager to start their journey.

The City of Tears was quiet, save for the sound of the pouring rain. The dead husks that normally walked through the halls of the abandoned buildings were lying motionless on the ground, a dark hound tearing them apart as they rushed to fight it. Their frail bodies stood no chance against the Black Shuck’s sharp fangs, barely posing a worthy challenge for him. Ater caught another chubby husk, foolish enough to charge at him, between his jaws, sinking his teeth in its flesh and shattering its shell. When it stopped moving, he threw it away and spat out the disgusting orange goo that flooded from its wounds. The hound had a task to accomplish and these disturbances began to get on his nerves. He sniffed the air, its nose able to pick the scent of the walking corpses through the rain. There was a new smell now. It belonged to a living being and it was getting closer. Ater headed in its direction, ears pricked and fangs ready to strike. The creature stopped walking and he could hear it scream at something. He got closer and his eyes could see it now.

It was a small bug with a white head and with a blue cape draped over its body. Flying around its antlers was a flying worm like creature, its eyes black as the night and red plates on its body. The two fit his lady’s description and Ater wasted no time in preparing to catch his prey. He was forbidden from harming them, which made his task harder, but that didn’t matter. He will not let Nocturne down. The Black Shuck’s eyes fell upon the sword made of wood that the bug had on its back. He had to snuffle a chuckle. Did that being seriously think that such a weapon would help in this place? Granted, the enemies were weak, but it would take more than a mere twig to do any harm to them. Ater sighed. Well, that somehow eased his task. The hound gave up on taking them by surprise and simply walked towards them.

At the sight of the black monster, the Grimmchild began to cry even louder and tried to hide behind Zote. The bug didn’t notice the Black Shuck even when he was right behind him, too occupied to boast to the lost child. 

“I am Zote the Mighty, insolent vagabond! Do you have any idea how many have fallen by my sword, the Life Ender? I’ve slain thousands, bigger and much more terrifying than these petty guards! There’s no beast in this world that can match up to my strength! I….” he finally stopped when he felt the hound’s heavy breathing in the back of his head.

Trembling, he turned around to meet the red, burning eyes of Ater, towering over him, his growls sending shivers down his spine. Zote let out a high-pitched scream, so loud the hound and Grimmchild had to cover their ears. Taking advantage of this, the bug ran as fast as he could, leaving the little child behind. Ater barked in joy. At least his prey had the decency to resist. Paying no attention to the child beside him, he began his chase.

“I’m so sorry for the trouble.” Grimm apologized, before he resumed calling out his son.

The little rascal ran after a vengefly, despite Grimm and the knight’s best efforts to stop him. Now everyone was stuck looking for him, and with each passing second, the father was getting more and more worried.

“Don’t worry about it. Quirrel, any luck spotting the little one?” Cornifer asked the bug perched on the balcony of a building.

“Nothing so… Wait! I think I see someone!” Quirrel yelled, his eyes following two figures running, one of them black as night and definitely not friendly, heading straight towards his group. After them, he noticed the Grimmchild following in a hurry. “I see the child! He’s heading our way, but he’s not alone!”

“Who’s with him?” Grimm asked, worried.

“I don’t know but they’re here!” the adventurer screamed and before he could get down, everyone heard Zote’s terrified scream and the loud bark of the hound.

The knight hurried towards them with Grimm not far behind, weapon in hand, ready to fight, while Cornifer went to hide somewhere and Quirrel rushed to their side. Zote saw them first and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to safety and ended up hiding in the same spot as the cartographer, fighting to catch his breath. Ater noticed the group as well, stopping in his track when his eyes fell upon the small vessel. There were two? Nocturne didn’t mention anything about it. Confused, the hound looked at the spot where Zote was hiding and then at the knight. Which one did he have to take back?

From behind him, Grimmchild appeared, small tear drops at the corner of his eyes. He flew towards his father, the Black Shuck paying no attention to him too absorbed by the dilemma he was facing. Grimm hugged his spawn as tightly as he could and were it not for the situation at hand, he would have made sure to scold him to the heavens and back. He handed the Grimmchild to Cornifer, who came to take the little rascal and get him to safety. Now, that his son was out of harm’s way, he was able to focus on the creature in front of him.

The knight gave out a silent sigh in relief, seeing their friend safe and sound, before turning their attention back to the monster in front of them.

Ater made no move, his eyes darting from the knight to the other bug he had been chasing not long ago. Both fitted the description Nocturne gave him. The beings were staring at each other, neither showing signs of attacking. Ater sniffed the air, hoping the scent would clear things up, and it did. Zote gave out the scent of old, fragile, mortal flesh, but the other one… it was the same scent that clung to Nocturne and the other shades back in Viridiam, the scent of death and the divine, of grief and rage, one that only demons could feel. Growling, the hound approached the knight, ready to grab him and run back to his lady.

The little one held their weapon high, ready to strike with Quirrel and Grimm not far behind them. The hound stepped forward, his red eyes fixated on his prey and then, he jumped behind the knight, taking them all by surprise. He grabbed them by the cape and began running away, ignoring the nail that was being jammed against his legs, leaving bleeding wounds and the fire bats the Troupe Master conjured to attack him. Unfortunately, the hound proved too fast for the bugs and they soon lost sight of him. 

“What in the wyrm’s name was that?!” Quirrel asked, falling to the ground exhausted.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care! If it hurts my child, I’m going to kill it with my own hands!” Grimm shouted enraged. He too was tired and could barely stand on his feet. All the energy he gained from the hot spring was draining away now, as the rain poured down on him. He fell on his knees, fighting to catch his breath. This was not the trip he imagined.

With the danger gone, Grimmchild flew to his father, too scared and worried for their friend to stay away from him anymore. If only he hadn’t run away when they reached the city. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for what had happened, small tears running down his face. Why does he always have to cause trouble? Grimm hugged his child and shielded him from the rain with his cape, the warmth of his body luring the little one to sleep.

“Well, the good news is that we can follow them. Look at this.” Cornifer said and pointed to the red stains on the ground, blood from the beast’s wounds.

“In that case we better hurry.” Grimm tried to get up, but the world began to spin around with him. he nearly fell down were it not for Quirrel to catch him in time.

“Maybe you should stay here and rest. This day seems to have taken its toll on you, Grimm.” the bug said, worried for his new friend.

“No… I can’t… the little one needs help.” the Troupe Master protested, trying his best to regain his balance. First, it was Brumm, now Quirrel. Why did everyone had to take care of him as if he was a child too?

“I’m afraid, we do need his help Quirrel. I’m not much of a fighter and that monster may be too much for you to handle alone.” Cornifer said, despite how much he hated the words coming out of his mouth. He could see that Grimm wasn’t alright, quite the opposite, but at the same time, he was too worried for the little one to just sit and do nothing. “Besides… I’m afraid the little one may be in danger.”

“What?!” both bugs yelled at the same time, fear rushing now through their blood. They looked at the cartographer, impatiently expecting answers.

“The direction that thing went in… I-It’s just a speculation, but… it’s in the same direction as the place we were going to visit…”

The silence which followed the bug’s words chilled everyone to the bone. Grimm didn’t want to wait anymore. He got back up; his strength renewed by the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He headed towards the Ancient Basin and with the other bugs close behind, throwing worried glances at each other and then at Grimm.

“If something happens to me, take the children and run back to my troupe in Dirtmouth.” the Troupe Master said all of the sudden, startling his companions.

“No way, we’re leaving you behind! We’ll be ok! I’m sure of it!” Quirrel said, trying to brighten up the mood.

“Maybe we need to bring Iselda here. I doubt even that beast would stand a chance against her.”

Cornifer’s joke managed to snatch a chuckle from his friends, helping them relax even for a minute. And by the wyrm! they needed it.


	7. Think before you act

The knight looked at Nocturne, surprised when the hound which took them from the others brought them in front of the queen. She wasn’t alone this time. By her side, was an odd-looking creature, with a white crown upon its head and eyes as red as the beast which kidnapped them. The hound stepped closer to his lady and placed the knight in her lap, growling as it presented his prey, his task fulfilled. Nocturne patted his head with her upper set of arms, while the other set was holding the little one, caressing their mask.

_“Thank thee, our dear friend._

_We are pleased to see thy success._

_Rest now. Thou hast earned it.”_

Ater barked once more before disappearing in the shadows nearby.

The little one watched in awe, the hound’s departure, before returning their attention to the queen who was holding them. Was she the one who ordered their kidnapping? But why? Once more, they had to suffer because of their voiceless shell. They looked at the creature besides Nocturne, who paid them no attention all that time. They could feel a strange sense of dread towards it, despite its seemingly tame appearance. Unaware, they wrapped their tiny hand around one of the queen’s arms.

_“What is it, our dear?_

_Something troubles thee?”_

“I believe it may be my presence, your Highness. This one does not seem to be used to us, demons. My apologies.” Stolas said, finally paying attention to the little one. He could feel it, deep within that void, that haunting emptiness, the presence of the old god still lingered. It was present in the other shades as well, but this one… they were different.

_“Do not be so hard on thyself._

_Little one….”_

They looked up to meet the queen’s gaze. The same glimmer they saw the first time was still there. Were it not for their thoughts regarding the others, they would have enjoyed being there, but Grimm’s worried face continued to appear in their mind.

_“Do not fear Stolas, our dear._

_He means no harm._

_He merely seeks a place to rest._

_The world is not kind, too many dangers lurk around.”_

Nocturne’s last sentence felt heavy, filled with sadness. She seemed to want to say more, but the words didn’t want to come out. Her gaze wondered through the greenhouse, falling upon the shades playing with the opened blossoms. They tilted their head, waiting for her to continue and when she did, her voice was trembling. Nocturne sounded as if she was on the verge of crying.

_“Many have left, and none have returned,_

_Thou must stay. Here, thou art safe._

_None shall dare harm thee.”_

They looked at her, her body shivering slightly, almost unnoticeable. She shed no tears, but they could feel she bore great sorrow. Still, to stay there and never leave? Could… could they really do that? Maybe. If they could bring Grimm as well, and Quirrel and Cornifer and all their friends. In that case, they were more than pleased to stay. Maybe Nocturne could help Grimm. Together, there may be a possibility to save his life.

“Your Highness.” Stolas interrupted. He was looking towards the door of the greenhouse, fixated on something the others couldn’t see. “I’m sorry to disturb your moment, but I’m afraid we have guests.”

_“Yes. We can feel them._

_Worry not. We shall deal with them.”_

Nocturne’s hand was already on the hilt of her sword. There were three intruders in total, two that were ordinary bugs, but the other one. Although faint, she could feel a godly power coming out of him. He was not a deity, only a vessel for a god that slowly drained his life away. To have one as him in her realm… why did he come anyway?

Hearing that the others came after them, the knight jumped down from the queen’s lap and ran to the exit, the three silhouettes already visible, as they approached the greenhouse. Grimm had a piece of cloth over his and his son’s face, Quirrel was admiring the flowers and the shades that approached them, out of curiosity and Cornifer was already memorizing everything he saw, eager to take out his papers and draw a map. They were so happy to see their friends, but before they could run to the Troupe Master’s arms, black vines wrapped around them and pulled them back to the queen’s side.

They looked at her confused, and she returned their stare, but before she could say anything, black and red spikes emerged from the ground and nearly pierced Nocturne’s armor, scratching her mask, but she managed to dodge them before further damage could be inflicted. The vines holding the knight were torn apart and they landed on the ground, the Troupe Master immediately by their side, ready to hold them, before a slash of azure flames passed right in front of him. He teleported at the last second, escaping the attack.

_“Worm, thou hast some courage to dare and attack us._

_Would thou have stayed put, we would have spared thee,_

_Yet, thou raised thy sword against us._

_Prepare to meet thy maker!”_

Everyone looked at the queen, Quirrel quickly drawing his nail and rushing to Grimm’s side, while Cornifer was hiding again in a safe spot together with the Grimmchild. The Troupe Master hissed at the goddess. He was in no shape to take her on, but she had the nerve to lay her hands on the little one. There was no way he would just let it go.

“I have courage!? You kidnapped my child and now you dare interfere when I came to claim them back?! I suggest YOU begin saying your prayers, my dear.” he shouted and casted five firebats towards her.

Nocturne evaded his attack and headed straight to the bug; sword ready to cut his head off when Quirrel appeared behind her. He quickly tried to slash her back, but she parried his blow and punched him in the face with her lower set of arms, sending him flying in the glass wall of the greenhouse, shattering it and leaving him unconscious. Another spike attack emerged from the floor, taking the queen by surprise. This time, the spikes came undone, and like scarlet snakes, wrapped themselves around her waist and legs, keeping her in place. As she was ripping them off, Grimm jumped at her with a knife strike ready to pierce her chest. Nocturne was not going to just stay and take it. She gave up on trying to free herself and focused on cutting him in half the moment he got close enough.

Ready to kill, ready to protect what each held dear, neither noticed when the little one dashed their way in between the two, vessel and god and released the screams of tens of vengeful spirits, knocking both beings to the ground. Nocturne and Grimm looked at the knight, unable to move due to the attack and the shock. They ran up to Quirrel who was still unconscious, bits of shattered glass piercing his shell, but otherwise he seemed to be fine.

Stolas rushed to the queen’s side, worried and thankful that she was fine. Why did she have to rush in a fight like that? He inspected Nocturne, sighing in relief when he found no injuries apart from some red marks, left by the burning cape. Were it not for the knight’s interference, even if her swing landed successfully, Grimm’s strike would still have pierced her. To lose her like the others, unacceptable.

“Are you alright, Grimm?” Cornifer asked the Troupe Master as he came to help him, Grimmchild hugging his father tight.

The fight was over, neither party willing to continue. The knight came back to Nocturne, their small steps much hurried than usual. The two looked at each other, their black stare expressing all the world that needed to be said. Suddenly, they raised their hand and lightly hit the queen’s mask repeatedly, as if scolding her. After that, they ran up to Grimm doing the same thing. Everyone looked at them surprised. Were…were they mad?

“I see… You are right, my friend.” the Troupe Master got up and went to the goddess still laying on the ground, extending a hand towards her, a sign of peace. “While I still cannot forgive you for your foolishness, my child wishes for us to get along and I cannot deny their wishes. Would you be willing to give it a try?”

Nocturne looked at the knight, and then at him. Her foolishness?! Oh! How she would love to strike him there and at that very moment. But then they would hate her. Still, there was a seed of truth in his words. There were things she didn’t know, things she ignored and look where it brought them. She made the little one mad and the rest were definitely scared. As a guardian, she should be the one they trusted, the one they did not fear to come to when in trouble. Yet, lately all she did was disappoint them. That had to change. Now.

_“Very well. Perhaps we were a bit too hasty.”_

She said and accepted Grimm’s hand. 

They went to one of the lakes near the greenhouse, where the queen called out for Vephar, one of her servants, to heal Quirrel’s injuries. While that was happening, she listened to Cornifer and the Troupe Master’s stories. The cartographer seemed more eager to talk about the layout of the kingdom, about the lands and the fauna, rather than the current events.

Nocturne couldn’t help but give the tall bug odd looks. He called the little one, his child. Why? She knew of their origins, the reason and the atrocities that lead to their creation. Was this man aware of them? What would he do if he found out? The little one was obviously attached to him. She couldn’t allow them to be hurt any more than they already were. And there was something else. A feeling that did not belong to her, but to the ashes spread across Viridiam. The god sleeping inside him… they seemed to know of him, but how? 

Grimm sensed her gaze on him, but he choose to ignore it. To stare was not polite, after all. There was a presence in this realm, other than her own. The Heart sensed it, and it somehow resonated with it. What was going on? Had it been here before? None of his predecessors had any memories regarding this place. Was the Nightmare King somehow tied to it? He had his secrets that not even his vessels were allowed to pry into, so that was a possibility.

One thing however, brought those two to a common ground. The fact that the knight’s attention was focused entirely on Quirrel. They didn’t even look at them! Were they still mad? No, no, no! Both Grimm and Nocturne would rather die than have the little one ignore them. Granted they weren’t as injured, but still! The final blow came when the knight hugged the bug as soon as he opened his eyes, overjoyed to see that he was fine.

“Careful my friend. I’m glad to see you are fine too.” the adventurer said and returned his friend’s hug.

If looks could kill, Quirrel would have been burned to a crisp and stabbed to death by a million swords.

Vephar looked at Stolas who was facepalming himself, at the sight of the jealous goddess and vessel. Ah! Such a delicious expression!

“Good luck, Prince. Something tells me you will need it.” the Duke said and disappeared into the waters of the lake, back to his realm.

“I don’t think there’s enough luck in this world to help me.” 


	8. The Fate of the Divine

She resembled her mother, that fierce strength and ferocious desire to keep what she loved close. Oh! He still remembered her, the stories his ancestor used to tell him about her. He and his sister showed her mercy back then, when they were still so very young, barely born. Her pain was great, too much to bear.

They lulled her to sleep, devouring the nightmares her grief birthed to haunt her. He used to go and watch her sleeping figure, mesmerized by the still dominating presence. The void was so greedy, keeping her to themselves. Still, he didn’t give up, and kept on visiting. It was… fascinating, to say the least. Two gods who were feared and respected by most, gone just like that. No one dared speak their name, afraid of some worthless curse that they made up in their terrified minds. A sad spectacle that moved him to tears. Would he be like that as well?

He sensed her awakening. He wanted to go and welcome her to the new world, but the chance didn’t present itself. Another Ritual ensued, he had to answer the call. He heard of the Wyrm’s plan, of the blasphemy he wished to perform. To desecrate the grave of the old gods. Hell’s fires and torture were not enough to punish such sacrilege. Yet, he did nothing to stop it. His sister had to be stopped. There was no other way. Now, he felt her presence, in this place, in that goddess that was birthed from her.

Her body may have been gone, but her soul was still there, watching over her realm and daughter, never speaking, never making her presence known. Too used to it, Nocturne now could no longer sense her, but she was there, nonetheless. She’s always been. Her ashes, cinders of her soul residing within, keeping her from passing in the world beyond. 

As his vessel was busy being jealous, so silly! but the Scarlet Monarch loved it! the two gods saw each other. In a chamber of red and crimson flames, darkness dripping from the ceiling, and singing a mournful song, Nightmare and Corruption met. She was still as beautiful as he remembered her. He bowed, respect for the old, for the one he had so admired.

“My lady, so glad to finally see you awake, at last.” his words were sincere.

She said nothing, black lips forming into a faint smile. Her dark eyes were staring at him, but they offered no expression. The Nightmare King looked at her, not really sure what to do. He extended a hand towards her, the mournful song of the goddess now accompanied by a more, lively one. He wanted a dance, his desire to live, explosive and burning bright, her own nature, dreadful and leading to inevitable demise. She accepted his invitation; though she had no idea what would come next. She never danced before.

Trusting the burning god, she followed his steps, dark mist and scarlet flames trailing behind them. They did that for an entire hour. The vessel and the daughter felt their dance, Viridiam itself shivering with each movement they made, but they dared not disturb it. At the end, the King bowed again, pressing a kiss on the goddess’ ebony hand, the name so very few ever dared say, escaping his lips.

“Hellebore.”

She saw it, the darkness and the fire, shivers running down her spine. Though separated, the two realms couldn’t completely be cut off from each other, the siblings still forced to gaze upon one another, though they never interacted, repulsed by feelings of betrayal.

For once, her grip loosened, her raging screams chased, allowing them a moment of silence, a moment of relief. The dance and songs stopped and while her brother was paying his respects, dark eyes, black as the void, stared at her, piercing her, freezing her very blood. Her rage paled in comparison to that of the goddess. When Hellebore shifted her gaze towards them, the Old Light nearly fell on her knees, relief washed over her. Never before had she felt such pressure. To be so close with death itself, an experience that she would never forget and definitely didn’t want to repeat.

They raised their eyes, the void inside them answered the wordless call just like they did so many times when she reached out to them, before they were sealed. Oh! They remembered her so well, a faceless voice that was always there. She used to talk to them, comfort them when their worries and fears took over. She treated them kindly, and chased her anger, forgiving their father when they begged her to. She didn’t understand, but she accepted. To finally see her, after so long. They couldn’t express how happy they were.

If she could, she would have passed into the Dream, and take them under her wings, holding them tight in her arms. It broke her heart. The state they were in, both child and god. At first, she didn’t recognize them, overcame by grief and anger when she sensed the war between the lights. Her presence was not as strong and pure. Maybe because her brother was there now, did Hellebore finally realized that the ones who helped her sleep back then were these two. They were faded now. Their once imposing figures were so weak. She couldn’t help but pity them.

The new gods, they were so empty. Unwanted by a world that could not let go of the old ones. When everything was already created, what more could they do? The old ones made rules. They thought of everything, but they never considered their own demise. Their immortality was fragile. They were breakable. The Primordial One was the only deity to have such privilege, for They were the original creator, the very essence of the world. They also never accounted for new gods to be born. nor how the world would receive them. The ones that came after were unwanted, never expected anything from. Rejected, emptiness took over, corrupting them. If the world didn’t want them, they will just take it without caring for the consequences. Demons pitied them at first, before they became cold to their pain. Gods are beings that need purpose. They need something to fill the emptiness of their existence, or else the corruption ensued. A cruel fate that none should endure nor escape.

She knew of their jealousy towards her daughter. After all, Nocturne was birthed for a purpose. She was wanted and loved. Something they forgot how it felt. Some never even experienced being desired by the world. Still, Nocturne’s purpose will soon come to an end. Hellebore could feel it. The Radiance will fall. A light that lost its purity was doomed to be extinguished. And when that happened, Nocturne would lose all her meaning. Her daughter would be corrupted soon after. She didn’t want that.

“Can you promise me something?” she asked the Nightmare King, amazed at the sound of her own voice. It had been so long since the last time she spoke.

“What could I ever do for you, my lady?” the Scarlet One asked, surprised as well.

“When everything is over, and the Light has fallen, kill my daughter. Do not allow her to exist one minute longer.”

Her words fell heavy, and the other one could hardly believe his ears.

“Do-do you realize what you are asking of me? This is your daughter.”

“Yes. And it’s because she’s my daughter that I make such a request. Nocturne will have no reason to exist once the Light no longer threatens this kingdom. The children will be released from their duty, free to move to the world beyond. My daughter will be all alone, empty, vulnerable and easy to corrupt. Before that happens, I want you to offer her release. Do not believe that you shall have no reward in this. There is actually something that you can gain from granting my wish. Something I know you want.”

“Which is?”

“A god’s heart.”

“Excuse me?” the conversation was becoming weirder and weirder, even for him. “A…a god’s heart?! Are you telling me that I’m free to take your own child’s power? It would serve me well indeed. I could finally be free from this never-ending cycle; I could release my vessel once and for all. Their sacrifice no longer needed, but… this is your daughter!”

“You’ve seen the gods of today. They are so empty, unwanted and unneeded. Nocturne will surely succumb to the same fate. I don’t want that. I’d rather have her dead than know she endures such misery. You must understand me. Do you not wish the best for your vessel as well? He is your own blood after all.” Hellebore knew what to say. Yes, her request was cold-blooded, cruel even, but death was a better option than decadence. If left alone, Nocturne will become the new threat to Hallownest. The children didn’t want that, Hellebore didn’t want that. There was no other option.

The Nightmare King was pondering her words. To put a stop to the Ritual, to release Grimm… he wanted that more than anything. But what he had to do for it was… to kill a child… could he do it? Was he really that cold-blooded? Granted, Nocturne was a grown woman, but she was still so very young compared to him. She was also strong. If he were to kill her, he had to use Grimm for that, but his vessel was getting weaker and weaker as the final dance drew nearer.

He didn’t have enough power left in him to fight against her. If the two were to battle again, he will surely die unless he was helped. Was it not for the little one’s interference…. wait. The little one! The Wyrm’s creations had the power to rival the Radiance. Maybe they could destroy Nocturne as well, with Grimm’s aid of course! They also seemed attached to the Troupe Master. They would surely want to help him. Taking this into account, yes, there was a chance to succeed, but would they be willing to? Hm... he could trick them, he had to. 

The fate that would await Nocture, were the children to leave this world...deep down he understood Hellebore's wish. More than he wanted to admit.

“I accept your wish, Hellebore. Cruel as it is, I wouldn’t want my child to suffer like that, either.” The Nightmare King bowed to Hellebore, fighting to speak and hating the position he had put himself in.

The goddess offered him a sad smile. Deep down, she wished he denied her desire. To have him scream at her and condemn her was way better than him admitting that he understood her intentions. It was better to be hated. It would’ve made her pain easier to bear. 

“Thank you.” she said, before disappearing into the darkness, leaving him alone.

The Scarlet One sighed pinching the space between his eyes.

“Sometimes I really hate being a god.”


	9. New child

Everyone was silent, save for the children playing in the gardens outside the greenhouse, trying their best to ignore the heavy air that took over Viridiam. Ghost and Grimmchild loved to chase their siblings around, jump in the huge water lily pads and feel it move on the surface. Sometimes, Grimmchild would try and set the flowers on fire, but only those that were not crimson. His efforts were always stopped by the knight. There had been enough troubles for that day already.

Inside the glass structure, surrounded by flowers and spiders weaving their silk, Nocturne sat on her throne, considering the actions to be taken. Around her, Quirrel, Grimm and Cornifer were quietly watching the demon by her side, intrigued by this unknown being. The cartographer and adventurer were wondering how the lands he came from looked like, while the Troupe Master cared more about how a creature of tainted chaos came to be in the service of a god.

He knew of demons, even met a few in his many lives. They showed interest in him, impressed by his nature. However, none desired to be in his troupe. He was just a vessel after all, and the Nightmare Heart was too weak for them to feel any sort of admiration for. One that picked his interest most was one with the appearance of an old man, riding a horse. His name was Furcas and he was a knight that taught many things to whoever called for him. His price was great, but he was an honorable one despite his wicked nature. To Grimm, demons were peculiar beings that he would like to know more about, but they liked to keep to themselves or bother other creatures known as humans, whose souls they liked to steal one way or another.

Stolas prayed, more sincere than ever before to whatever god was willing to listen. He hoped Nocturne will not take another stupid decision. She was too stubborn. Once she made her mind up, there was little one could do to change it.

“Your Highness, please consult yourself with me. This matter does not concern only you.” he said. At least, if he knew what she was thinking about, his worries may subside, or he could guide in her on a path that may be less dangerous.

Nocturne looked at him, saying nothing at first. She seemed tired and absent-minded.

“ _Very well, our friend. It may be for the best…_

_To stay in Viridiam, the little one does not wish to._

_To leave for us is impossible, for if we do, this realm will crumble._

_What should we do? To let the little one alone in outside world,_

_We could not bear them to suffer and never return like the others._ ”

“They will not be alone, my lady. They have us. I find your fears to be completely unfounded.” Grimm joined the discussion, trying to distract himself from matters of the Nightmare Heart. Something happened to the King. He could feel it, but as usual, he treated his vessel like a fragile child that had to be protected. How Grimm hated it when the Scarlet Monarch treated him like that!

_“We do not trust thee.”_

Nocturne response came, her words piercing the Troupe Master like a spear through his chest.

“My apologies? I don’t think I understand your reasoning.” he said through clenched teeth, trying to put up a smile.

_“Thou art strangers to us._

_Would thee entrust thy child to someone thou have just met?”_

Grimm felt as if he was slapped, but he said nothing, clenching his claws so hard they penetrated his shell.

_“We thought so. Who would after all?_

_We do not wish to leave the little one alone again._

_But as we said, to leave this place,_

_We could but Viridiam will turn to dust.”_

“But you can’t keep them here.” Quirrel interfered.

Viridiam was a beautiful realm, but to stay there forever was definitely something the knight didn’t want. They always seemed to be looking for something. The adventurer wasn’t sure they would be willing to just give up, though he couldn’t deny that he understood Nocturne’s feelings. It was clear that she cared about them, but those worries blinded her and caged her in her fears. She couldn’t see past them. 

“E-Excuse me, lady…but the little one can take care of themselves just fine. You, yourself, must have seen it during your fight with sir Grimm.” Cornifer added, after he finally gathered the courage to speak.

“That is true, your Highness. Nobody has been able to get so close to you before, and this was not the first time you fought multiple enemies and they tried to take you by surprise.” Stolas sighed in relief for a second. Fortunately, these bugs had good arguments, but even so, would Nocturne be willing to listen to them?

_“Thy points are good, but we care not for them._

_The others weren’t weak either. We can affirm their strength._

_Truly, this one is different, but that does not help us._

_If they wish to leave, unless we can accompany them,_

_We cannot grant such a request.”_

Everyone felt the need to facepalm themselves, except for one. This could work to his advantage. To grant Nocturne’s wish wasn’t hard and he could make use of it. Ah! He just loved it when fools played so well in the palm of his hand.

“Well, there is a way for you to leave, but I doubt you will like it, my lady.” Grimm spoke, surprised at the words coming out his mouth. It didn’t take him long to realize what was going on and he didn’t like it one bit.

“ _Oh? And what would that be?_ ”

Nocturne leaned forward in her seat, supporting her chin with her upper set of arms.

“To split yourself in two. A part of you may remain here in Viridiam to keep the realm from collapsing, while another would accompany us into the outside world.” The Nightmare King continued, ignoring Grimm questions and his futile attempts at resisting. When would he learn that he had no other option but to obey? Not that the Scarlet One minded it. He loved to see his vessel try to fight him, like a child trying to defy his parent. His vessel, his child.

The queen was silent, her mind turning the idea on all sides, examining it and dissecting each detail and all the processes needed to put it in application.

“ _Hm… thy proposal is risky, indeed._

_But we are in dire times and another option is yet to be found._

Very well. We shall try.”

“Your Highness! You can’t be serious!” Stolas yelled, his feathers ruffled from the shock.

“ _Yes_ , _we are. We understand thy worries._

_But there is no other way.”_

“Still! To split yourself is far too dangerous. One wrong step and you could lose your life!” the owl kept on raging. Just when he believe she could stop being reckless, she had to go full “Hold, my mead!”.

“I’m willing to assist her in this task, sir Stolas.” The Nightmare King spoke again while Grimm was shooting him menacing glares, now that he gave up trying to regain control of his own body. “In case you don’t know, I’m the vessel of a god, myself. Who better than me to offer her help?”

“Indeed, who better to trust than the guy that only moments ago tried to kill her?” the demon spat at him in disgust.

“My apologies.” The King said, offering a bow.

“That is enough, both of you!”

Nocturne’s voice made the two beings look at her.

“We shall try to split ourselves as thou proposed,

But know that should something go wrong,

We shall take thy life as punishment.”

“Very well, my lady.” the Nightmare King said, delighted to see that his plan was set in motion.

“What do you want to do?” Grimm asked him at last, in the safety of the mind they both shared, where no one could hear them.

“Be at rest, my child. You will be safe and if all this goes according to plan…” the Scarlet One giggled and disappeared, leaving his vessel both confused and frightened. What was he planning this time?

The King took over his body during the entire time while the process was taking place. Fortunately, it ended fast and without too many mishaps. Stolas brought a doll from the underworld, made by a skilled demon, enchanted to take the form of whatever being was possessing it. The clay creation was strong enough to contain half of a god’s power, though only for a little while. Maintenance was required at least twice each month. The separation was the most dangerous part, but the Scarlet One guided her on every step, thus it wasn’t as painful as it was for him, when he was forced to do it, so long ago, in order to survive.

In the end, Nocturne’s body was sitting on the throne of Viridiam, her heart beating faintly, yet power was still coursing through her veins, and a smaller, younger version of her was sleeping in Grimm’s arms, a part of the queen’s soul residing inside, the Trope Master now in full control of his body. Cornifer and Quirrel did not question his knowledge, though they wanted to, but there was a feeling, something inside them that told the bugs not to. Ignorance was bliss, after all and now they wanted it more than anything.

Stolas watched them, distrust emanating from his eyes. He flew from he branch he was seated on and landed in front of the bugs, locking eyes with the black one.

“I still do not trust you. In all my years of existence, I’ve never saw anyone help a god out of the kindness of their heart. You are after something, I can tell. The moment I see you try to harm Nocturne, know that my talons will show no mercy. Your presence is faded, weak. You won’t stand a chance against me. So you better be careful.” the demon said, his tone becoming more menacing the more he talked.

Grimm didn’t flinch at his words. He knew the creature had every right to be wary. He didn’t know what was going on either. The Nightmare King was scheming something and that never led to anything good. Never! The Troupe Master looked at the child in his arms. The Scarlet Monarch wouldn’t hurt her, right? He was cruel, but even he had his limits, right? The thought of him hurting her left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was naïve and cruel, too eager to jump to conclusions, but beneath her coldness, she was worried about the others and deeply cared about them. She didn’t deserve to be used or harmed even if she got on his nerves.

Ah! It happened again. His paternal instinct was taking over. Did he always have this soft spot for children? Maybe. None of his incarnations lived this long to test it. Well, that was it. He had one more child to look after. He couldn’t help but wonder how Brumm would react when he would see the new addition to his odd family. Would he yell at him? Would he just silently accept it? The thought made him smile. Now he couldn’t wait to see his expression.


	10. To start anew

When Nocturne woke up, the first thing she felt was fear. She wasn’t in her usual spot, on the throne of Viridiam, encased in the greenhouse, the siblings running around her, playfully. No. She was sitting in a crib, in a dim lit room by many scented, crimson candles, one she had never seen before. Her body felt strange as well. Her limbs were stiff, and she couldn’t escape a feeling of constraint as if she was caged.

She felt something warm wrapped around her and she turned around to see Grimm’s son, sleeping peacefully by her side. She looked at the other side and there was the little one, sleeping as well, their tiny hands holding hers. Confused, she wanted to wake them up, but the events of the past day came back to her, and she slowly recalled what happened. The splitting ritual had been a success and now she was in the outside world, wearing a body of that was her own yet not quite. The queen blinked in realization. She was outside, away from Viridiam, in the land she always wished to see.

As Nocturne was thinking about it, someone entered the room, a putrid fragrance of disease and decadence disturbing the sweet-scented air and making the queen wish to cover her nose.

“Oh! The little lovelies are awake! How are you, little black flame?” a strange female bug spoke, slithering her way to the crib.

Divine lifted Nocturne in her long claws and hugged the tiny one tight despite her protest. Grimm and Brumm came in shortly after her, the tall, black bug heading straight to his child, who was beginning to wake up as well.

“Good morning, my dears! So glad to see you three have woken up.” the Troupe Master said, cuddling the other two children in his arms, both awake and ready to go out. “How are you feeling, my lady?”

Nocturne looked at him, his question taking her by surprise. Should she answer? She still couldn’t make up her mind on whether to trust him or not. She knew that he was after something. Why else would he help her? Still, seeing him holding the children, and watching the little one be so fond of him… she sighed. They made a deal in Viridiam, to try and get along. Guess she had no other choice but to honor it.

“It’s strange. It feels like my body is too small…my skin feels so tight… as if… I’m caged.” she said, trying to move her hands and little fingers around.

It was hard. It took the body a few seconds to obey her commands, too much for her liking, and each movement sparked a faint feeling of pain in her, the same one got after staying still for too long. It was bearable, but the queen worried she may not be able to endure it if it was going to be like that all the time. How was she going to protect the little one when every action brought her discomfort and took so long to perform?

Grimm seemed to have picked up on her thoughts, placing the little ones on the ground and taking Nocturne from Divine.

“Do not worry, my dear. It may be uncomfortable at first, but it will pass soon. Once your new body gets used to moving, you will be able to do everything just as you used to. Would you like to exercise a bit?”

Nocturne nodded at his words. He set her on the ground and as soon as he removed his hands, the queen failed to properly balance herself, and fell down with a loud thud, the impact sending a strong feeling of pain throughout her entire body, making her cry. The knight ran to her side and helped her up, but her legs refused to listen, failing to offer the support needed.

“There, there.” Grimm said and lifted Nocturne in his arms, his warmth alleviating her pain.

“I hate this.” she said through sobs.

“Just give it time, dear.” he comforted her. “You mustn’t rush it. There’s still time.”

A lie, he knew that all too well, but there was no need to disturb the little one anymore than she already was. Was the Nightmare King like this too when he sealed himself? Clumsy and feeling caged? Probably not, given that he did that after the child was already grown up to adulthood and besides, his vessel had a mind of his own. Still, it would have been a little funny to have memories of the Scarlet One clumsily trying to learn how to walk. 

Stolas was worried beyond words. Nocturne’s real body was still in Viridiam, the spiders tending to the needs of the realm just as she used to do before leaving. They were playing with the children and taking care of the flowers among other stuff. The demon was impressed by their diligence, but he couldn’t afford to admire them for too long. There were more dire matters at hand.

The creature looked at the queen’s body, more accurately at the black flames burning between her horns. They weren’t as large as before, but rather small, like dying embers. Stolas couldn’t help but fear that they will be extinguished in time. He refused to go back to his realm to rest or even sleep. He dreaded the flames going out should he even for a second close his eyes. However, he couldn’t resist the fatigue slowly taking over. He needed rest. He couldn’t keep watch forever and more than anything, he couldn’t be in two places at the same time.

The owl regretted letting that bug go and not following him, but the thought of leaving Nocturne’s body unsupervised was scaring him to no end. What if someone came and harmed her? No! He will not let anything happen to her! But that meant he had to sacrifice watching over the other half of the queen’s soul. This tore him apart on the inside. He couldn’t do this alone. It was beyond his powers. He needed help and thankfully, some aid was close by.

“You. Come here.” The owl said and looked at a shadow nearby.

From the darkness, a form emerged, black as night, with 5 horns on its head, three pointing upward, the one in the middle smaller than the others and two pointing sideway, eyes on each of them, with another in the center of its face. It had no limbs to use, but tentacles were its feet should have been. Stolas knew his kind far too well, failed creations of the new gods who had been foolish enough to believe the shadows would obey their will. Little did they know that darkness cannot be ordered around so easily. It will fight. It will resist and, in the end, it will drag whoever dared to try and place harness on it into itself, erasing them from the face of the world. Such is its wild nature. Such is the law of its existence.

Maun looked at the owl and snickered, covering his huge, teethed smile with one of his tentacles. He cared not for being caught. Rather, he was overjoyed. The scent of trouble was in the air and he couldn’t resist it.

“Hehe! Little, long-legged owl, why are you staring me like that?” the shadow asked, still giggling.

Ugh! Stolas was begging to regret his decision, but annoying as these little guys were, Maun liked Nocturne and was loyal to her. He could be trusted. He pointed to the door of the realm and said.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, our lady has split herself in half and while a part of her is still here, the other one is now wandering through the world outside. I cannot leave her unsupervised but being in two places at once is beyond my power. I will stay here to protect this half, but I need you to go and watch over the other one. Can you do this?”

Maun looked at the demon and then at the queen’s body sitting on the throne, the flames burning between her horns so faintly, he couldn’t help but feel a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t want her to disappear. Who will protect him then from those he angered?

Without another word, he ran to the tunnel leading outside. God’s gave a strange scent, neither sweet nor bitter, one that clung to the air even after they long left a place. Viridiam was full of it and so was the path Grimm and the others used when they took the other half of the queen to the town of Dirtmouth. Wasting no second, Maun headed there as well, mind filled with ways of causing trouble once he was face to face with his dear lady.


	11. Trouble

The worst part of this entire deal was the loss of her dear sword. It was a gift from her late mother and Nocturne felt bad for having to leave it in Viridiam, but her current form did not allow her to wield it. Now, she was in dire need of a new weapon as she was making more and more progress each day. Never, in a thousand years or more would she ever acknowledge how much she appreciated Grimm’s help and patience. He took his time with her, trying his best to make her adapting process easier and less “shameful” as she put it and it was showing. Both him, the little one, and another bug named Iselda aided Nocturne in her getting used to the new body and the fruits of their labor were becoming more and more obvious with each day.

Grimm put the little ones to sleep and then retreated to his room, his cloak still drenched from the spring they visited during the day. Nocturne… ugh! she was a handful that was for sure. She was too impatient, too eager to get back on the battlefield. Not that he could blame her. For a being who had never faced hardship in her entire life, to suddenly find herself hopeless and in need of protection, she must be scared, though he knew she wouldn’t admit it. Oh! If only he could find a way to get her to cast away her pride. Still, Grimm didn’t regret anything. He was overjoyed when she made her first steps without falling, when she was able to run again, without tripping.

Chained by her duty as a guardian, she never got to discover herself, to see what she truly liked and what she hated. For her, the fact that she had split herself was probably the best thing to ever happen. She finally got to have the childhood that her purpose denied her. It hurt that the waters of the hot spring couldn’t help her alleviate the pain, but thankfully the body was getting used to moving and so the numbness was going away. Still, would it be alright after her maintenance? The demon who made the doll agreed to come to her in order to tend to it, but will Nocturne be alright after that? Will the pain return? The unknown scared him. How peculiar this was. That one whom he despised, became so dear to him.

When Nocturne began her training with some fake nail he had around, he was more than happy to show her the basics. However, that nail couldn’t last long. They needed to find a new one and fast. He had no more time left. Soon, he won’t be able to protect the children. Painful as it was, they had to take care of themselves. His son and the little knight were no problem, but the queen was a different story. She was like a child who was still learning about the world, amazed at everything she saw. He adored seeing the amazement on her face, to teach her about the creatures and watch her run around with his son and the knight chasing a tiktik.

Nocturne couldn’t bring herself to kill the poor thing, falling in love with its white shell and small stature.

“Can I keep it?” she asked once.

She was holding a tiktik that she had feed and now the critter was following her everywhere. It was so funny to see her hands wrapped around it, given that it was more than half her size. Grimm could barely hold himself from laughing. Oh! She was just too precious. Still… to have a tiktik as a pet…

“You need to learn to say no.” Iselda told him later that day when she brought him some more fruits and saw the white creature walking around in a small enclosure made for it.

“Thank you.” Brumm added, as he was continuing to play his accordion in a corner of the room.

“I’d love to see you do it, madam.” Grimm answered, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Oh! You’re on.” the bug said, full of confidence.

The next day, the tiktik, now called Puffy, had a new friend, a mosscreep, Nocturne named Poppy.

“Don’t you dare say a word.” Iselda said, glaring in Grimm’s direction.

The Troupe Master went in the next room to burst out laughing while Brumm was facepalming himself and Divine was eyeing the little creatures, thinking of all the meals she could turn them into.

Hornet ignored the obbles trying to attack her, following the sound of laughter coming from somewhere deep inside the Greenpath. Strange things have begun to happen lately, the moss kin finding themselves in odd situations, fool eaters getting rocks stuck in between their jaws, mosscreeps glued to walls with a strange substance, unable to move, and the list went on. Whoever was responsible for all this will be sure to pay. The young bug jumped over the acidic waters and took a route which led to Lake of Unn, a path she knew all too well.

Puffy and Poppy were running around playfully, while Nocturne was chasing after them, followed by the knight, Grimmchild and Divine. The Troupe Master hadn’t been feeling well that day, but he insisted the children go out to play. Brumm refused to leave his side and so the task to accompany the little ones fell upon Divine. She didn’t mind it, the chance to hunt after a long time delighting her as well as watching the small queen run around. Just like Grimm, she too was fond of children, finding pleasure in satisfying their innocent curiosity, and the smile on their face when they found something that amazed them so. It was one of those little things that made life beautiful despite its harshness.

Nocturne hadn’t been to that part of the Greenpath before. She liked watching the plants and the things that slithered around. The moss kin were just so fluffy. If they weren’t attacking her on the spot than she would have hugged them with all her strength.

Suddenly, the group heard a loud scream coming from somewhere nearby. Recognizing the voice, the knight ran towards the place where it came from, followed by the others.

They quickly reached the chamber and found Hornet tangled in silver threads with a slimy, black goo all over it. Next to her a shadow creature was laying on the ground, tentacles wrapped around his tummy as he was laughing. The bug was throwing menacing glares his way, but Maun cared not. Ah! It felt so good to be evil! However, the fun of the shadow was cut short by a nail flying quickly towards it, barely missing his head. He got away from his spot, in time to see the newly arrived group of bugs and his beloved queen.

“Oh my! Nocturne! Is that really you?” Maun shrieked in joy, flying towards her.

“Maun! What is going on?” Nocturne asked the shadow creature. She knew Maun’s mischievous nature and the how his pranks would more often than not become too dangerous.

“It’s not my fault! She’s the one who attacked me first.” the dark being defended itself, pointing one of his tentacles towards Hornet who was now being released by the little knight.

“Maun!”

Nocturne was ready to scold the shadow when she saw it. There, on a rick was one of the vessels which had left Viridiam, mask cracked, and their nail plunged into their chest. The queen was livid. She fell down on her knees, her vision getting blurry, unable to formulate a coherent thought. She knew the fate of those who left may have been death but to actually see it. Tears began to stream down her face as she felt the world collapsing onto her.

With legs shaking, she headed towards the corpse, praying that what she was seeing was an illusion, that it wasn’t real. Others talked around her, but their words couldn’t reach her. With each step, that little hope was crumbling more and more. When she reached it, her little fingers touched the broken mask, memories of the small one running through her realm flooding her mind, unleashing even more tears. Their joy when they would chase after her in a game of tag, the feeling of their body lying in her lap during one of Viridiam’s rains, she recalled every single detail, every single second of those days.

The truth was there, screaming in her face. They were dead, killed by another. She didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t bring herself to accept it, but what else could she do? Slowly, grief was replaced by rage. They were murdered. Why? Who could do such a thing? She had to find whoever was responsible for this.

Suddenly a needle flew towards the queen, barely missing her and the vessel’s corpse and getting stuck in the wall in front of them. Nocturne turned around to see who had the audacity to do that, only to be met by Hornet’s menacing glare.

“Who are you? By the looks of it I’d say you are a vessel, but there’s something strange about you. Name yourself creature?”

Before Nocturne had the chance to answer, the knight was already in front of her, nail drawn and ready to attack. They sensed the queen’s fury, growing more and more, and feared what might happen now that she was challenged to battle and besides, she had no weapon to protect herself with. Still, they doubted not that Nocturne could defend herself well. Even with the old, broken nail Grimm gave her, she could still hold her ground against the Troupe Master. But now? Rage was clouding her mind, filling every inch of her being, devouring her as if it were void. They didn’t want to risk anything.

Divine joined the little ones, ignoring Hornet, focused on protecting her master’s son and daughter. The knight was able to fend for themselves, but the others worried her to no end. She, too, could tell that Nocturne wasn’t alright. There was something sinister festering inside the little queen and she had no intention to find out what it was. Too bad fate had other plans.

“Are you responsible for this?” Nocturne said through clenched teeth, her tone overflowing with a bone-chilling rage, so cold even Grimmchild and Divine flinched and wished to get away from her. It was obviously too late to take her away from there.

“You have yet to answer my question. Ghost of Hallownest step aside. This time I’ll let you go. It is the one behind you that I have business with.” Hornet answered, trying to calm herself down. What was this creature?

The knight refused to move, despite wanting too. Nocturne wouldn’t hurt them, would she?

Ah! The scent of trouble was so delicious. How could Maun resist to add fuel to an already fuming fire? Snickering, the shadow went to the queen’s side and threw one last smug look towards the bug that not long ago was struggling to escape one of its traps.

“My lady, I saw the little one being killed by her! When I tried to interfere and save them, she attacked me as well! Please, my lady do something about her! If she finds Viridiam, no doubt she’ll kill the others as well!” a lie, but Maun knew that in her current state, Nocturne would believe everything, no matter how ridiculous. All that was needed was to mention the little ones being in danger and the rest happened naturally.

Without a second thought or anyone being given the chance to stop her, Nocturne snatched the nail from the knight and lunged towards Hornet, heading straight for her head. The later managed to dodge in time, only to meet with a punch to the face from her attacker. Though she had no longer the strength that made others cower in fear, her current body couldn’t bear it, but she didn’t care. The only thing in her mind was to make the bug suffer just like the little ones did, to return the pain a thousand times more.

Hornet threw her weapon at the queen, and Nocturne grabbed it, using the thread attached at the end to pull the bug towards her, the nail in her other hand, ready to pierce her white head. The warrior released her thread just in time to avoid the fatal blow and put distance between the two of them. She had to gain her needle back, and fast. The bug was given little time to think of a way to do reclaim her weapon when Nocturne threw it towards her while charging with the nail. Hornet caught her weapon in time but couldn’t defend against the other attack. The queen’s blow tore apart her cape and the left a long mark on her skin, but not deep enough to cause bleeding. Still, the bug was amazed at having someone successfully land a hit on her and angered at her cloak being destroyed. However, the fight would soon be over, and the queen would be defeated, she was sure of it. The cracking sound coming from it was proof of that.

Nocturne didn’t notice her body giving in. The anger swallowed the pain and blinded her to the obvious signs that would lead to her defeat or even worse death. The others couldn’t interfere, the fight to fast to follow and Maun stopping them from even trying. He adored seeing the two beings struggle so much, he too unable to see what was truly going on.

One more attack and Hornet will fall, that was what Nocturne was convinced of. She was ready to charge when a cloud of scarlet smoke appeared in the middle of the field and black tendril wrapped themselves around the queen’s body lifting her in the air.

Grimm was pissed. To see his adopted daughter in such a sorry state. Black blood dripping from her joints and slight cracking sounds coming from her exhausted body. Now that she was no longer fighting, the shock of being suddenly suspended in the air helped her regain her clarity enough to be overcame by the pain. She began to cry loudly, tears flowing down her cheeks. Grimm gently grabbed her and began to soothe the little her in his arms. He could put off scolding Divine for later. Right now, Nocturne had his full attention.

Unfortunately for him, Hornet had no plan give up so easily.

“Who are you and how dare you interfere in our fight?” she demanded to know.

“Shut up!” came Grimm’s response, even more menacing than Nocturne’s early fit of rage. “You are lucky my child is in such distress and she needs to be tended to or else I would have ripped the heart out of your chest!” his tone was low, but the venom was clear as day.

He looked at Divine who was already sweating in fear, Maun hiding behind her, scared out of his mind. Well, that was one bug the shadow didn’t want to mess with.

“Divine, we’re leaving. Now!” Grimm said and headed straight to the path leading back to Forgotten Crossroads and to Dirtmouth, scorching ashes left on the ground he stepped on.

‡ While the children were out ‡

The fact that Grimm was feeling ill that day wasn’t a coincidence. The feeling of constant nausea was the Nightmare King’s way of scolding his vessel for pestering him with questions about his actions. The Troupe Master spend the entire night trying to get answers from the god he served. What did he plan to do with Nocturne? Why was he so eager to help her back in Viridiam? If he had any idea of harming her than the Scarlet One could be sure Grimm wouldn’t assist in the matter. The King remained silent about what his plans entailed, much to the black one’s annoyance, but he refused to leave without getting to know what would happen to his adopted daughter.

“You’re so annoying! Why can’t you just leave it be? This will work in your favor as well.” the Scarlet Monarch snapped at one point.

“If my benefit means having to sacrifice a child for it, then I’d rather die!” Grimm snapped back.

“Silence! You know nothing! Begone now! We shall speak of it no more.”

And with that the Troupe Master woke up, laying on the floor, feeling worse than ever and unable to sleep again. When Brumm saw him, the musician made a huge fuss about it and how his master could barely stay on his feet. He called Iselda to help him, while Divine took the children out to play so they wouldn’t see and worry about the black bug.

“How did you manage to get so sick? You looked fine yesterday.” the shopkeeper asked him, as she replaced the medicine-soaked rag again.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Grimm said, trying to pass it off as no more than a mere cold.

“Whatever. Good idea sending the children out. They better not catch whatever you have.” Iselda continued, looking worried at the bug’s faded colors.

Maybe they should try and get him to the hot spring in the Forgotten Crossroads. Ugh! Why did Cornifer have to be gone now of all days? However, the infected bugs appeared again, and the Troupe Master wasn’t able to walk on his own. There was no way she could carry him and fend against the dangers at the same time and the musician didn’t seem like the fighting type.

“Anyway, I need to go for now. I promised Sly to help him with something at his store. Brumm, if you need anything come and get me, ok?”

“Mrm, sure. Thank you.”

“No problem. And you get well soon.”

“Will do, my lady.”

After Iselda left, Brumm took a sit by his master’s side, among the nest of pillows and blankets he made given how Grimm couldn’t hang on the ceiling as he used to. The musician tried to play something, to appease the furious king and make him ease the illness, but his mind was too uneasy, and the songs reflected that more than he would have liked.

“My dear musician, what bothers you so?” Grimm said, eyes half closed.

“Mrm…nothing master.” Brumm replied, trying to hide the storm inside.

“Nonsense. Something is eating away at you. You need not hide it from me. Let me help.” Grimm insisted, even though he could barely do anything, thanks to his current state.

“Mrm… it’s the little one, master. Nocturne.” the musician said, giving in to his master’s demands.

“Our little queen?” Grimm was surprised. He didn’t think Brumm actually cared about her, though why he believed that he couldn’t tell.

“Mrm. Yes. She’s… strange. Mrm.” the bug tried to put the feeling he got from her into words, but it was far too hard for him, one who spoke so little, preferring to use songs as a mean of communication.

“She’s only lonely, my dear friend. She was forced into a role, one that, I dare say, was never suited for a creature such as herself.” Grimm stared at the fabric ceiling of his chamber, going silent for a little while before continuing.

The sickness slowly fading. The Nightmare King was too soft in his opinion. He couldn’t stand to see his vessels suffer for too long.

“It’s so strange, you know. For a creature of darkness, I expected her to be more chaotic, more… how should I say it…. more of a troublemaker. Yet, whenever I look at her, I see only a child like any other.”

“Darkness? I thought she was of void like the other child.” Brumm said surprised. His master let him know of the Wyrm’s crazed plans and the sacrilege he had made himself guilty of. He believed Nocturne to be just another discarded one who somehow managed to live and acquire power beyond imagination through some other wicked means.

“Well, they are quite the same but also different, my friend. Darkness is eternal tainted chaos that desires to bring never-ending suffering, while void is the force which longs to return everything to nothingness. While both of them hate the light, darkness knows that it needs it in order to exist, but void doesn’t care and it will devour anything it can, nonetheless. Also, void is created when two powers struggle to consume each other but can’t. The pool of void under Hallownest was birthed from the madness filled blood of a dead god, mixed with the overwhelming pain of another. The grief and rage fought for dominance until there was nothing left of them, only an everlasting hunger. Darkness existed since the dawn of creation. It feeds on the evil inside each being with each passing day in order to sustain its existence. It understands that there needs to be a balance in the world and obeys it, never taking more than it needs for if this world will stop existing so will it. Void, on the other hand, is neither good nor evil and opposes both, although it tends to act more like its later counterpart and for it, to return to nothingness is exactly what it wants. Both are violent in their own way and will not obey anyone without a price. For darkness, it drags those foolish enough to try into itself where they are met with eternal suffering while void completely erases them, leaving nothing behind. Those who fell prey to the first one, can be saved but the later will remain gone forever.”

“Mrm…I see.”

“Nocturne was birthed from the goddess of rot and decadence, Hellebore, who offered her life in return for a child that will protect the shades left behind by the discarded vessels. Pretty much like how the Wyrm offered his children to the void, in exchange for a hollow creature able to contain the Radiance. Hellebore was originally the mate of Tamas, god of darkness. I find it very likely that even with the divine one dead, the darkness still obeyed her and helped in Nocturne’s creation. To allow such a being to protect the vessels… gods really are the worst when it comes to making plans for the future.”

“And what is wrong with that? Mrm.” the musician was more and more confused.

Grimm sighed heavily. He… avoided the truth like a plague. He was aware of how god’s needed purpose in order to exist, how violent and savage darkness truly was and how Nocturne wasn’t falling victim to her real nature because of the duty bestowed upon her. There was no real need to question the Nightmare King about his intentions, but he did it only to feed a false hope that the little one would be fine, even though he knew better.

“This… is where the problem lies. Like any other god, Nocturne needs a purpose… or else she will become like the other creatures of darkness, longing for nothing but destruction and endless suffering. She was never given a chance to discover herself, to see who she really is. The only thing she has is the duty bestowed upon her and while she does wish to end it, she fears what will become of her once the shades no longer need to linger in this world. Thus, she’s in constant war with herself and it hurts to just stand around and see it while be unable to help.” Grimm sighed again.

He was feeling much better with the nausea finally gone but thinking of Nocturne saddened him. He did his best to keep her away from the Black Egg Temple, but soon, he will have to give in and tell her everything. Nocturne wasn’t aware of where the Radiance was, but the Troupe Master knew that as soon as she would find out, killing the Moth would have been her top priority, regardless of how reckless it was. Poor Stolas. Is this how he always felt?

For the first time, Grimm wished the Radiance wouldn’t fall, so that his daughter could live a little longer. A useless desire, one that pained him greatly, but he still held onto.

Both bugs fell silent for a few minutes, as neither knew what more could be said. Thankfully, a voice from outside caught their attention and Brumm went to see who could have been, leaving Grimm all alone. Shortly after he left, the musician returned, accompanied by a tall creature with six arms and its body and face covered by dark veils and blankets. It was carrying multiple bags, the scent of clay and paint coming from each of them.

“Mrm, master. This creature claims to have come for Nocturne.” the bug said, clearly scared of the unknown being.

“You must be Pupa, the doll making demon. I believe our little queen’s maintenance was not due for another three days.” Grimm said, rising up from the nest he had been so comfortably lying in, all day long. The world was spinning around him a little, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Yes. You are right, but the doll has been crying out far too much and I just couldn’t ignore it. If left alone the body will break and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to make another for at least 10 years. These things take a long time, you know.” Pupa replied, looking around the chamber, searching for a suitable place to set down her equipment.

“What do you mean the doll is crying?”

Nothing bad happened to the little ones, right? Divine was with them after all. No, it couldn’t be!

“I warned her not to put too much pressure on the doll…”

Pupa didn’t get to finish for Grimm was already outside the tent, heading to the well and towards Greenpath. He had grown too weak to maintain his scarlet gaze upon the troupe members other than the Grimmkin, but with a little effort he managed to see where Divine was. Fear took over him once he saw Nocturne approaching the dead vessel. He cussed out his legs for not taking him there quickly enough, rage building up with each infected creature that dared cross his path.

Despite all that, he got there just in time to save Nocturne’s life and take her back to his tents, where Pupa was patiently waiting, tools ready to get to work. The process took two hours, the doll being damaged pretty bad, but fortunately, it was fixable. When it was done, the little queen was sleeping in Grimm’s arms peacefully, tears long dried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things that may need to be cleared up:  
>  1\. Yes, Nocturne doesn’t know about The Hollow Knight and the Radiance. She knows that the vessels were created to contain the infection, but Hellebore never shared with her what the source of the infection was.   
>  2\. When Pupa says she hears the doll cry, it’s the actual body of that Nocturne is using that’s calling out to her. There’s an enchantment on them which creates a connection between the dolls and her which allows her to check on their state at all times.
> 
> Also, thanks to all of you who have read my story so far. I feel like I've been quite a jerk for not telling you that until now. Sorry. Thanks again and if there's something that's not clear please let me know.


	12. Godseeker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. Been working on another fic and kind of had no inspiration for this one. Anyway, we're approaching the end, folks. Thanks for sticking around so far.

“Careful, my dear. Please don’t do that. You might get sick.” Grimm yelled after Nocturne as she joyfully jumped into a puddle of water.

The rain in the City of Tears was stronger than usual and Grimm feared that the little ones might get a cold or slip and fall. His son was tucked safely under his cape, Grimmchild’s head peeking out from time to time to look for potential play targets. However, after his last mischief the previous time they had been there, his father had a strong hold on him.

Quirrel was leading the way to the Nailsmith he had found, meaning that Nocturne could finally get herself a new weapon.

Maybe because her mind had reverted to that of a child, but Nocturne got over the events in Greenpath, although one thing was clear to everyone. She and Hornet were to never meet again. The group made a new comrade as well. None other than Maun who after tasting Grimm’s furry first hand, resorted to only watch the little queen as originally requested by the Prince. The shadow was floating around, scaring any enemy that may have caught Grimmchild’s attention and making jokes with the little ones.

“Too bad Cornifer couldn’t accompany us on such a fine day.” Quirrel said at one point, trying to pass the time.

“Indeed, but maybe we will run into him on the way back. He and Iselda are in Viridiam if I’m not wrong, mapping the realm.” Grimm answered, before calling out to Maun to pay attention to a vengefly who was dangerously close. The shadow dispelled of it quickly, before the little ones got to notice it.

“Oh, that’s right. Maybe we could also pay a visit to sir Stolas. He might be lonely without miss Nocturne.” Quirrel added. “Go straight ahead and then go right. His house is on top the hill.” the pill bug instructed the children.

“Will do. Come Ghost.”

The knight seemed to have taken a liking to being called Ghost, even if the others didn’t really like it given its implications, but who were they to argue, after all. Divine thought it would do good for the little one to have a name other than the knight and they all agreed. Thus the little one received the name of Ghost.

They followed Nocturne as she was slowly climbing the hill, eyes all around for potential threats. After the fight with Hornet and learning how fragile the doll holding the queen’s soul really was, they became overprotective of her.

Suddenly, Nocturne stopped in her tracks, looking around confused.

“Something wrong, my dear?” Grimm asked worried.

“Ugh! Miss, something is bothering me!” Maun began to complain to the queen, knowing that the others didn’t care about him.

“So you can hear it too?” Nocturne asked, looking down.

“Hear what, my darling?” Grimm was growing more relentless with each second.

One day. One normal, peaceful day to spend with his children. Was he asking for too much?

“It’s like a calling, I guess. It’s coming from somewhere below us.”

“You mean like Viridiam? Is sir Stolas calling out to you?” Quirrel asked interested. He wanted to find out more about demons and their powers, and any opportunity to do so felt like a blessing to him.

“No, it’s much closer than that. Can we go take a look?”

“After we commission your nail, my dear.” Grimm said and gently pushed the little ones towards the Nailsmith’s house, hoping that whatever it was would pass by the time they were done.

Unfortunately, his hopes proved to be in vain. The Nailsmith agreed to make the nail and even fix Ghost’s broken one, but that would take a lot of time. He advised them to go and visit the city in the meantime, and now the children were eager to see what had bothered the little queen and Maun.

“Grimm, there’s a hidden pathway here.” Nocturne pointed out to a road that indeed looked sort of odd, and the Troupe Master could feel a current of air flowing through the dirt.

It took him and Quirrel a few minutes to break it and once they did, the group headed down towards the source of the calling. As they descended through the tunnel, the Troupe Master began to feel somewhat strange as well. He didn’t need much time to recognize it, and excitement began to fill up in his chest. To be given a chance to witness such a grand stage, maybe even perform on it and in the presence of his children. Grimm couldn’t be happier.

They reached what seemed to be a junk pit, filled with countless broken chest and other garbage taken there by the waters from the Royal Waterways. Somewhere close to the shore, there was a container-like thing which stood out from the rest. It was surrounded by chains with a heavy lock stopping it from randomly being open. Everyone approached it, Maun already trying to tear the binds apart.

“Careful, shadow!” Grimm yelled, worried the creature might harm the one inside.

“Do you know what this is, Grimm?” Quirrel asked, curiously looking over the engraving on the container.

“Yes!” the bug replied, full of excitement. “Oh! It’s such an honor to have her here.” he continued and helped Maun undo the chains.

“Is that so? Can you give me more information?” the pill bug asked but right after his question was over, the container opened, and the large body of a strange, masked bug fell on the floor.

It seemed to be deeply asleep, wearing a strange mask, outside of this kingdom and when Nocturne tried to wake her up, Grimm stopped her.

“We can’t wake her up like that, my dear. Quirrel, please hold my child for a moment and Ghost, hand me the Dream Nail.” the Troupe Master said, trying to calm down the tremor of his hands.

To perform on her stage, a dream very few of his ancestor turned to reality. It was an honor, to be called by her, to have their nature and talent acknowledged by one held in such high regards. The catastrophe which befell her land was truly saddening, but he couldn’t deny that there was no better place for her to be than here, where not one, but three gods resided at that very moment. He looked once more at the Dream Nail. Oh! The irony. That a weapon once used to kill him would serve in achieving his dream. Radiance must be angry by now, seeing the one she once called brother wielding her blade.

In one swift motion, Grimm stroke the Godseeker, bracing his children as they were pulled into the bug’s dream.

Nocturne was walking through the halls, but their splendor couldn’t make the queen forget her anger. She was looking for this Godseeker, ready to beat the living days out of her. She dared look down on Ghost, speaking to them as if they were garbage. There was no way on Earth she was going to let it go.

“Nocturne, for the last time, slow down.” Grimm said, wrapping the ends of his cape around the queen.

It wasn’t easy, because Nocturne was in her full form, no longer just a child as portrayed by the doll her soul was using. Right now, she was back in her adult body, too big for the Troupe Master to hold, much less restrain.

With ease, she tore the cape apart and threw a menacing look towards him.

“Are you saying I should just stand by and let that worthless creature go unpunished?”

At least she was still speaking normally.

“I’m afraid that for now, that would be the best case, yes.” Grimm said, finally reaching the angry queen. Even now, as she was a full-grown adult, he still thought of her as his daughter and couldn’t bear her being in danger.

“I will do no such thing!” she said and turned her attention to the vast halls in front of her, to the strange clothed bugs, all wearing the same mask as the one she was looking for. “Hear me, Godseeker. Your offense will not go unpunished. To dare insult one of my kin. You will rue your mistake; I will make sure of that.”

Grimm face palmed himself. He began to regret coming here. He disliked how the Godseeker spoke to Ghost too, but he knew about the creature’s arrogant nature, thus it didn’t surprise him. Nocturne on the other hand was different. She was easily angered by any form of insult to the little ones, something the Troupe Master both admired and hated.

“Miss Nocturne, while I stand by you that the Godseeker crossed the line, I’m afraid I find your approach might be too drastic. Please. Let’s sit down and talk. I’d like to hear more about this place if possible, Grimm.” Quirrel interfered, inviting his friends to take a sit on a bench he had found.

Nocturne pondered on the pill bug’s words. She promised herself she’ll try to change, but that was harder than she thought it would be. Trying to suppress her anger, she went and sat on the bench, eyes stuck on the weird bugs around her.

Quirrel and Grimm sighed in relief. They didn’t expect her to be so obedient but were more than happy with it. One less problem to deal with. As soon as they sat down too, the black bug began to explain to them where they were, about the Godseeker’s desire to attune to the gods of the land and thus how it brings powerful beings there in order for them to train and ascend to godhood. Nocturne listened, but she was interested in none of that. To attune to the gods? Pure foolishness. She could see nothing but a waste of time in such a mission. What interested her most was how to reach that worthless vermin and make her pay. Something about Grimm’s words did bother her though. It was like a memory long forgotten, a sense of danger that she couldn’t shake off. There was something here, at the top of this Godhome.

“Would completing these pantheons bring us closer to the Godseeker?” she asked.

“Yes. It will.” Grimm answered. He was feeling her too. Radiance was there, hidden well by the clouds and the magic of the Godseeker. He should have never brought Nocturne there.

“Very well. In that case, let’s start.” the queen got up from her seat, heading to the nearest pantheon, the one of the Master.

The Troupe Master felt the color drain from his already white face. His greatest fear was coming to life right before him. No! This couldn’t happen. He tried to move but his body refused to listen. He was stuck in place, as Nocturne was getting closer to that blasted gate.

“Wait, Nocturne! How are you going to fight? You have no weapon?” Quirrel called out to the queen.

“I need no weapon. My bare first are more than enough.” she answered and as if to make a point, she approached one of the pillars and hit it with all her strength.

It crumbled right before their eyes, turning into nothing but dust. The bugs watched it, baffled at the destruction her thin arms were capable of.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let us move forward. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“You won’t.” Grimm finally managed to say.

“Excuse me?”

Another interruption. Nocturne’s patience was wearing thinner and thinner. She turned around to look at the Troupe Master, anger clear in her eyes.

“You heard me. I forbid you from doing this. In fact, we shall be here no longer. Ghost, son, Quirrel, Nocturne, we’re leaving. Now.”

Grimm turned around, heading to the glowing portal they came through, but the queen had no intention to listen to him. Did he really think he had her fooled? She knew there was something he hid from her, and out of respect, as a way to thank him for the kindness offered, she chose not to pester him with questions, but that came to an end, now. She needed answers.

“What are you hiding from me?” she asked bluntly, but that mere question was enough to make the bug tremble from the bottom of his being.

“N-Nothing.” he replied but he failed to hide the tremor in his voice and thus stuttered. That was more than enough to confirm her suspicions.

“I’m tired of being kept in the dark. You know something. Tell me. NOW.”

“I said no! We’re done talking about this.” he said, turning to Nocturne, fists clenched.

The look in his eyes made the queen hesitate and step back. He wasn’t furious but hurt. Whatever he was hiding, caused him a great deal of pain. That was clear. However, to simply allow that sorrow to go on was unacceptable.

“Grimm, I thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” she said, slowly approaching the bug. “But I cannot ignore this matter. This is no longer just about her insulting the little one. There’s something more to this. Please,” she was now standing in front of him. She gently reached out and held his hand. “tell me what is going on.”

Suddenly, Grimm hugged her, breaking out in tears as he could not hold it in any longer. The inevitable was going to happen, whether he wanted it or not. Fate was cruel, giving him a wonderful daughter that he was now doomed to lose. Nocturne was surprised by this, but she didn’t fight against it. She returned the hug, patting his back and humming a lullaby she learned from Brumm, his master’s favorite one.

“It’s going to be ok.” she said, and she meant it.

She might have hated to admit it, but deep in her heart, she loved him, the father she never got to have. He taught her that life was more than her duty. He allowed her to see a world she always longed to be a part of. She had a dark feeling festering in her chest, but even so. She won’t let anything bad happen to him, or anyone else. 


	13. Bittersweet End

Nocturne listened in silence, as Grimm told her everything. The Infection was caused by the Radiance, a moth god who was once his sister, but who betrayed him a long time ago. She had lost her mind in rage, after being abandoned by her children and now was taking it out on a kingdom that refused her as a ruler in favor of another. The queen learned the Hollow Knight, the fate that befell them and the suffering they were going through every day at the talons of the moth. The Troupe Master didn’t hide anything, and as much as it hurt him, he disclosed the fate that awaited her the moment the Radiance will die. She listened to it all in silence, and when he was done, she said nothing. Truth be told, she had an idea that something like this might happen to her. She foresaw the end of her duty long ago, but how it will come; she didn’t know. At least, not until now. 

Quirrel was looking at the bugs in silence, making sure the other two children wouldn’t go to disturb them. He could tell they needed space, room for themselves to discuss the things that the Troupe Master needed to get of his chest. Ghost understood that too, thus they began to explore the surroundings, looking at the statues filling the place, each representing a creature which had been drawn there by the Godseeker in order to train to ascension, two in particular drew their attention. The first one was that of Hollow, the sibling holding the infection inside of them, locked in the Black Egg Temple, and the second one represented the broken vessel they had to face in the Ancient Basin. Will…will they be able to talk to them here?

They took out the Dream Nail and were ready to strike the second statue when Nocturne called out to them. They looked at her and noticed the air around her feeling heavier. Her eyes were locked on the broken vessel as well, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she recalled the little one’s eagerness to play all the time. Oh! She never forgot them, no matter how much time passed. She ran one of her upper set of hands across the stone surface of the figure. Such sad fates they all shared.

Ghost came closer and hugged the queen’s legs, holding onto her dress tight, understanding her pain. It would be a lie to say they didn’t feel the same. They may have not met their siblings but knowing what they’ve been through still hurt greatly. They recalled the bitter feelings they had when they clashed nails with the broken vessel, each par and attack sending a new wave of pain through the void in their body. They didn’t want to fight, but there was no choice. Controlled by the corrupted Lightseeds, the vessel had no desire to leave their sibling go alive.

“It’s going to be fine.” Nocturne said again, more to herself than the hurt child by her side.

“Are you going to fight?” Grimm asked, approaching the two.

Traces of scarlet tears still shone on his cheeks under the dim light of the room, Grimmchild’s wings wrapped around his neck and shoulders, the baby feeling his parent’s distress.

“Miss Nocturne, please think thing through. There may be another way.” Quirrel tried to argue but he didn’t have much faith in his words. He didn’t understand what was happening very well, but he knew one thing. That this will not end well for his friends.

“No. There is no other way.”

Nocturne bend down and picked the little one up, fondly caressing their mask as she stared into the void in their eyes. Oh! How she was going to miss them. She went to Grimm and handed him the small knight, before turning around and going to the door, bracing herself for what was about to come.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, my dear father. When everything is said and done, I will seek you out. Until then, this is our farewell.” she said as she got out of the room.

Grimm didn’t protest. He knew Nocturne wouldn’t listen. He hugged Ghost and his child tighter, the pain in his chest so great, it took every ounce of strength in his body to not crumble on the floor.

Maun, who had been silent until then, making himself completely forgotten couldn’t help but feel sad as well. He watched the queen enter the first pantheon, dread filling his being. How was he going to give such news to sir Stolas? That owl will definitely kill him the moment he will begin to speak. Yet, he had no choice. The shadow got out of Godhome before the others and rushed to Viridiam, where he found the demon still watching over the other half of his queen, ignoring the cartographer and his wife who were exploring the realm.

At the sight of the creature, the owl let out a heavy sigh, knowing full well that the worst had happened.

“Get it out already creature. Do not prolong my suffering any longer. Is my queen heading to her demise?”

“Well, I wouldn’t use such morbid words.” Maun tried to add some light to the bad news, but the Prince’s menacing look reduced him to silence.

Stolas glanced upon the queen’s flame, sadness washing over him. Once more, the chance of bathing in a god’s light escaped through his feathers. Yet, he could not leave her. He will stay by her side, until the time came.

“My queen, if only you could open your eyes and see…how much you mean to so many, but if such is the path you chose, then so be it. We will not adore you any less.”

The dance came much too soon. He answered her call, even though he didn’t want to. He knew whom he would face, and he wasn’t ready for it. He could never be. And yet… there he was, gazing upon her white face, her tattered dress. Having no weapon to fight with clearly didn’t ease her task, but she had no plan to turn back. In a last desperate attempt, he reached out a hand, and with pleading eyes he asked her:

“Please, my dear. Forget this task and return to me. I miss you so much and so does Ghost and my son.”

“That I can’t do, my dear father. Please, let us not delay any longer. To prolong this pain is mere folly.” she said and offered him a deep bow.

Swallowing back his tears, Grimm cast away his feelings and gave his best in battle. Maybe if he won, then Nocturne will give up and she will return home.

Unfortunately, Nocturne was more capable than he thought she will be, even without a nail to use. She cared not for his fire bats, his fire affected her not, and she wasn’t interested in the dress that was burned more and more. She dodged each one of his upper and lower cuts, her punches landing in perfectly. The first one hit him in the chest and knocked the air out of him for several seconds. He barely teleported in time to avoid a kick to the face. The battle continued, and he was clearly losing, unable to keep up with her speed and bear her strength. With remorse, he surrendered, proud on one hand and pained on the other. She could do it. She was able to defeat the Radiance, but that fact only made him agonize more.

The Nightmare King had no interest in obstructing her thus he didn’t try to drag the fight on too long. He still fought the best he could. After all, he was in the presence of the Godseeker. To display less than his very best would have been shameful. Just like his vessel, he had trouble with Nocturne’s strength. He was quick and sharp, while she was agile and strong, her kicks proving the most troublesome, even more than her punches. He was a bit bitter, when he lost, but relieved to have had a taste of her power to himself. If it was her, his sister will surely fall after all this time.

She had to go on. There was no other choice for one such as her. When Grimm asked her to give up and return home, she had to resist the urge to jump in his arms with all her strength. Oh! She so wanted to go with him. But the little one’s sorrow could finally end. How could she turn away when she found out about the Hollow Knight? Was she really that cold, to ignore their suffering in favor of her own comfort? No! That wasn’t what she was created for! She rejected his offer and went straight to battle, after one last gesture of respect, an attempt to hide her own pain. If only she could have stayed by his side a little longer.

The queen opened her eyes, ready to meet her next challenge, Pure Vessel. A lost memory, a bright image of what they had once been, before their cursed fate took over them, before the rage of the goddess corrupted them. She fought. She did her best and when they feel, as they were ready to disappear, she hugged them, saying over and over.

“It’s going to be fine. Just wait a little more. I’ll free you; I promise.”

Whether or not they understood her words, she didn’t care. All that mattered, was that the enemy ahead will fall.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Radiance laughed at the queen standing before her. To think that such a small creature will reach her, that she will best all the enemies who had been presented so far was quite impressive. The Moth would have been a fool to take that away from her current foe.

“Cut to the chase, vermin. You know why I am here. Surrender now and I shall have mercy upon you. Challenge me further and I will make sure your demise shall be as painful as possible.” Nocturne replied to the Moth’s mockery.

“Ha!” Radiance scoffed. “You might have been successful until now, but I will not fall as easily as the others. If anyone will meet her demise here, it will be you.”

“We shall see about that.” Nocturne said and thus they began.

Indeed, the Radiance was not like the rest. She was more powerful and had a lot less openings. Nocturne’s punches weren’t causing as much damage as to the previous enemies. Her attacks were also harder to dodge, and by the end of the first round, Nocturne had lost one of her right arms, black blood dripping from her wounds, while the Moth had only her desperate gasps for breath to attest her struggle.

“Ready to give up, little vermin?” the goddess asked again, mockingly.

“Once I’m stepping on your corpse, yes.” Nocturne replied.

They went at it again, and this time it was more violent, each determined to kill the other, but Radiance made a mistake. She didn’t time her attack properly and failed to take into consideration how drained she really was. Nocturne had no trouble avoiding it and she took advantage of the opportunity. This was her chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She opened her fists, revealing white, sharp claws and sunk them into the Radiance’s face, yellow blood busting out of the wound and covering her. The Moth let out a deafening scream, making one last attempt to release herself from the queen’s grasp. She shoot one last beam of light that destroyed Nocturne’s entire left upper body, black liquid mixing with yellow.

“Pathetic.” Nocturne said through gritted teeth and finished the Moth.

As she stood on the platform, holding her wounded body, she just wanted to rest, her task finally complete. But there was one promise she had to keep, one person she had to return too. Gathering the last of her strength. She got back on her feet and was ready to get out of there. She had enough of that place as it was.

“Amazing! A god that surpasses all other. Let us not waste any more time my lady. Show us the way and we will attune to you.” the Godseeker’s voice caught Nocturne’s attention.

She looked at the bug who was eager and happy to have finally found the god she has been searching for so long. All of the sudden, the queen rushed to her and punched the creature, sending her flying and knocking her unconscious.

“This is for insulting Ghost.” she said and left. She was so done with these lunatics.

Grimm felt the claws of pain wrap around his heart when the seal upon the Black Egg Temple shattered to pieces. Nocturne had won. The Radiance has fallen. The Dreamers had been released from their duty, finally able to wake up. He welcomed the Hollow Knight into his tents with open arms, displaying a happy and relaxed personality when others were around. No need to have them worry about him when there were more dire matters at hand. The knight had to be their top priority. But when he was alone and there was no one to witness his despair, he crumbled to the floor and cried. The worst may have been over for Hallownest, but for him. It merely began.

After days in which things were slowly returning to normal, Grimm was sitting on a chair outside, watching his children play. Nightmare King put the Ritual on hold. He was expecting something but what, his vessel didn’t know. The Hollow Knight was sleeping in Divine’s tent, with the bug and Iselda looking after them, and Brumm was filling the air with his songs.

Grimm was recalling the events of yesterday, when Quirrel left, his memory returned shortly after lady Monomon awoke from her slumber and Hornet and Herrah came searching for Ghost, demanding answers regarding the sudden change. The Troupe Master had no idea what to tell them, so he simply shrugged and returned to his tent. Now he began to wonder whether or not that was a good decision. As he was thinking about it, he heard the Elderbug screaming for help and Maun rushed over to him, the shadow fighting to catch his breath.

“What do you want shadow?” he said, harsher than he intended. He had no ill feelings towards the creature, but his presence never foretold anything good.

“Don’t give me that, you jerk! Anyway, come quickly to Viridiam. Nocturne requested your presence and I’m afraid she doesn’t have much time left.” Maun said and left as soon as he delivered the message.

Grimm didn’t need anything more. Without saying anything, he rushed to the stag station, the old creature not coming fast enough for him. As soon as he got on, he demanded to be taken to the Hidden Station. The ride felt slow to him and he could hear time flowing through his fingers. The fear of being too late kept on whispering in his ears, filling him with its venom. He was close to having a heart attack had the stag not reached his destination in time.

“He will be here soon, my queen.” Stolas said, trying to comfort Nocturne.

Her injuries refused to heal, blood continuing to flow, and stain the grounds of Viridiam. When she appeared in the realm, wounded and fighting for her life, the owl was overjoyed, thinking she could still be saved, yet that hope turned to be in vain. She was dying and he could do nothing to help her. After days of failed attempts to heal her, the queen demanded to be taken to Dirtmouth, to see her father, but Stolas denied her request. Her insistences softened his heart though and he send message to the Troupe Master through Manu. Now, the shadow was back, reporting his mission as a success. Just as Stolas was about to tear the creature a new one, doubting his words, he heard Grimm calling out to the queen, slamming the greenhouse’s doors open.

He knew Nocturne would be in a horrible state. There was no way it could be otherwise. But to actually see her…the Troupe Master lost all his strength, his feet shaking with each step he took. The queen gave him a faint smile and extended her remaining arm towards him. He took it and brought it to his face, breathing in deeply her scent mixed with blood and the one of herbs used in the countless attempts to heal her, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Oh, my dear daughter.” he said crashing down on his knees at her throne.

“Cry not for me, my father.” Nocturne replied, her voice unwavering. “I have fulfilled my role and now my existence is no longer needed…”

“I need you!” Grimm yelled, baffled by her words. “You are my daughter! How can you say no one needs you?”

“Oh! But you don’t. You know as well as I do, that now that I’m free of my task, my true nature can no longer be restrained. I can feel it even now, on my death bed…. The yearning for violence, the desire to cause pain… Oh! It takes hold of every fiber of my being with each passing second. However, right now… my heart is still not entirely corrupted… it can still be of use to you.”

“No…. I would never do that! You can’t!” Grimm yelled, understanding what she was asking of him.

“You must. I know you need it. Ghost informed me long ago of your condition. Please, time is running out. Before it’s too late. Devour my heart. Let your flames destroy the darkness it was birthed from and allow its power to unite with yours!”

“Do as she says.” Stolas joined the conversation, pained by the words that escaped his beak. But he understood Nocturne’s desire. Painful as it was, he wanted it granted.

“Sir Stolas, you can’t be serios?!!”

“Yes. I am. Do it! Let her pass without any regrets.”

Grimm looked at the owl and then back at Nocturne. No. He didn’t want her to have any regrets before dying, but even so… A voice whispered in the back of his mind, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t oppose the god’s request. He handed over his body willingly and retreated to the farthest corner he could find, averting his eyes from the gruesome deed.

When it was all over, the King came and sat by his side, holding his crying vessel in his arms. Now there was no need to sacrifice him. The Ritual was needed no more.

Maun heard a voice calling out to him, a whisper coming from the depts bellow. He looked at the grieving bunch, and then at the corpse of the queen he adored. The flames were extinguished and, in their place, now lay a small piece of coal which was slowly turning to dust. He had to act quickly.

“Hey! Stop crying and follow me! Quickly! There’s still a chance to save her!”

“What are you on about shadow?” Stolas spat the words in fury.

“Shut up! Take the coal and follow me.” Maun yelled and headed to the exit of Viridiam.

Grimm and the owl looked at each other, baffled, but decided to follow the creature, nonetheless. If this turned out to be another one of his pranks, they could easily put an end to him as well.

They headed to the Abyss; Maun being led by the voice that only he could hear. He took his companions to the pool of void, grave of Tamas. The air was heavy and the black waters unusually still. Once on the shore, the shadow looked at Grimm and said.

“Throw the coal in the sea.”

“Excuse me?” the Troupe Master replied, confused.

“Just do it. He wants to help.”

“He?” Stolas asked the shadow only for the revelation to dawn on him. “No…No, you can’t mean…”

“Do it already!” Maun screamed and Grimm obeyed, throwing the piece of coal into the void, hoping that whatever was going to happen will be worth it.

His prayers didn’t go unanswered. The moment the coal touched the waters, black tendrils wrapped around it, and a form began to take shape from the union. Before their very eyes, Nocturne was being reborn. She was back in the body of a child, no flames burning between her horns this time. When the creation process was done, other tendril emerged, taking the little queen back to the ones watching in shock on the shores. Overcame with millions of questions and joy, Grimm headed to them, taking his daughter in his arms, hot tears flowing down his face and onto her white mask. She was there, asleep in her arms, alive. There were no words he could find to express his gratitude.

Suddenly, a voice began to resound from the sea of void, one that all of them could hear.

“ _Take care of my daughter._ ”

“We will.” Stolas answered for all of them. He too was happy to have Nocturne back. His desire was no longer to bask in the presence o the Divine, but to be by the little queen’s side. Forever and ever, until time will be no more.

⌘The End⌘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's over at last. Thank you for sticking with me for so long guys and as usual, please let me know what you thought of it down in the comments. Love ya all and have a wonderful day!  
> P.S. You're great. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and thanks for stopping by. Does anyone actually read this stuff? Nevermind. So... hope you enjoyed this, and I would really apreciate your thoughts on this. Thanks again. English is not my first language, so if you spot any mistakes please do tell me. I usually try to correct these things before I post them, but sometimes mistakes slip through. Sorry. Anyway, have a nice day.


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